


Picture Perfect

by TeaEnthusiast



Category: Doctor Who, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, M/M, Modeling, Photography, Waiters & Waitresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaEnthusiast/pseuds/TeaEnthusiast
Summary: Mia is as regular as a girl can be - she quit school, is working as a waitress and has no idea what she's doing with her very regular life... until one day someone barges into the cafe. That was the day she met Matt Smith.(Story as well as extras for it can be found on my tumblr; http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/)





	1. Chapter 1

I was one of those weird people that who just wasn’t up to date with the happenings of the world. I still had a phone that had a buttons I needed to press in order to type a message and my laptop was nearly ten years old.

I just wasn’t interested in the modern world. Selfie sticks and such just didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t like buying the latest technology because it was always changing, no sooner would you buy whatever was the ‘latest and greatest’ before it was replaced with something new and better. I preferred to just find something that worked for me and update when I absolutely had to.

That being said, I may not have recognized the celebrity that walked through the doors of my work that day, but if the hoard of paparazzi and fangirls waiting outside for him was any indication, he was obviously a big deal.

The café where I worked was called ‘The Aussie’ and only employed Australian’s or someone who could do a convincing Australian accent, which turned out to be no one. I waitressed at the café in London with fellow Australian Immigrants Daisy and Chess.

I was wiping tables after the lunch rush, when the café was empty when he stumbled through the door.

I looked up as Daisy stepped over to greet him, “Hi,” she smiled, her baby blue eyes lighting up as she saw him, “Table for-” she began.

But he completely ignored her, ducking his head he made a bee line for the back of the café.

I watched him curiously, since when did a guy not want to be greeted by the beautiful Daisy? Was he blind or gay?

As he walked through the café, I took stock of his outfit; he was wearing a dark blue, two button trench coat that fell just above his knees. He had old blue jeans and mud encrusted boots on, which seemed out of place with his expensive looking coat. He also had on a stylish grey scarf and despite being inside, he was wearing large, dark brown tinted sunglasses.

He was the only other person in the café that afternoon. Apart from myself, Daisy and the owner of the café.

The café was owned by Australian born Robert Lecky, who preferred to be called Bob. He was a bald headed man with a beer belly and always wore a blue singlet, so a typical Australian male. He was the cook in the café along with his son Robert Lecky the third, also known as Bobby.

Bobby was tall and lanky and even at the age of twenty still seemed like a gangling teenager. He was very talkative when on his smoke breaks but when he was working, his head was down and he barely spoke a word. He was a hard worker.

But at that point in time, Bobby was out the back having a cigarette and Chess was out there with him, taking her break and talking to him.

Sitting at the back of the café, he seemed to be trying to conceal his face from the outside world and I exchanged a look with Daisy, who seemed similarly bewildered by his actions; was he hiding from someone?

Daisy peered out the window curiously as I turned to look at the new patron. His ears were quite large and stuck out a little from his head. The most outstanding feature on his face was his nose which was large and flat. But he had a very strong jawline that reminded me of some sort of superhero, which was amusing because the man on which in belonged was quite thin and wiry.

Just as I returned my attention to wiping the table once more, Daisy approached, “Hey Mia,” she said quietly, “I think that guys a celebrity.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked, not removing my gaze from my task.

“There’s a bunch of paparazzi outside and I think they’re looking for him.” She revealed.

Paparazzi would certainly explain why he had ducked into our café like it was a last haven and headed straight to the back to avoid being seen.

“I don’t recognize him. Do you?” asked Daisy.

“No.” I said as I straightened up.

“We’ll have to ask Chess when she comes back. She’ll definitely know.” She replied.

“Are you going to go over and get his order?” I asked, wondering vaguely why she was still talking to me when she should have been attending to our customer.

She shook her head, “The guy obviously doesn’t want to talk to anyone. If he signals one of us should go over but if he wants to just sit, I say leave him in peace.”

I nodded. Daisy was a good judge of character so I was going to follow her advice. I continued wiping tables, working my way towards the back of the café while Daisy cleaned the coffee machine.

Daisy was a brunette with beautiful blue eyes and was currently going to art school. I’d seen some of her drawings and she was very talented. Daisy was a bit of a mystery, she was often withdrawn from people but always very alert and attentive to the people around her. She was a little quiet but not in a shy way, more of a regal way.

As I came closer to him, the mysterious celebrity kept glancing anxiously out the window every few seconds before he suddenly ducked down in a panic. I turned my head to see three different men, all holding large camera’s standing in front of the café, looking around.

It was obvious the man was trying to hide from them so I very covertly stepped in front of him to block him from their eye line. I probably looked like an idiot, just standing there holding my washcloth but eventually the three men headed down the street, away from the café.

Once they were gone I turned to the man in question, who was still hiding behind the table.

“They’re gone.” I assured him.

He peeked over the table, his big green eyes glancing out the front window anxiously before he straightened up and sat in the seat once more, letting loose a long sigh of relief.

“Oh no wait, there’s more of them across the street.” I observed.

He made to duck behind the menu propped up on his table but I stood in front of his table so they couldn’t see him.

There was a moment of silence as he kept glancing out the window nervously. They couldn’t see him while I was standing in front of him, but that meant I couldn’t move until they did, so I was standing there doing nothing, looking like an idiot.

Glancing over my shoulder I could see a group of paparazzi had gathered across the road. They all seemed to be conferring with one another. Holding their camera’s tightly. They weren’t going anywhere soon.

Turning back to the man in question I desperately searched for something for me to do while I stood in front of him, shielding him from you, “Would you like to hear what’s on the menu?” I offered.

“Ah, yes please.” He said, still ducking behind the menu that was right in front of him.

The whole thing was incredibly awkward and I could tell he was as uncomfortable hiding as I was being his human shield. But the both of us were obviously trying to make the other more at ease so I began to rattle off the items on the menu that I now knew by heart having worked at ‘The Aussie’ for so long.

“There is the Kangaroo Burger that comes with chips or a salad. Sweet Potato and Chive damper that comes with cream cheese. Our homemade sausage rolls. Our beef and beer pie. The cheese and vegemite pull apart or there is corn and split pea soup with feta.” I listed off to him, “That’s the savoury.”

I wasn’t sure if he was paying attention to me, but he quickly raised his head to look through the window before he ducked his head once more, “They’re still there.” He muttered.

The paparazzi weren’t leaving which meant I had to stay in place, so I continued to read out the items on the menu, “We have a lot of sweet stuff. You could have a slice of the tim-tam cake or a slice of the coconut and milo cake. There’s the jam and vanilla cream filled lamingtons…” I trailed off. There were no more items on the menu and it was getting very awkward for me to continue standing in front of him without doing anything.

Eventually Daisy caught on to what was happening and went and pulled down the blinds far enough that the other side of the road was no longer visible and they could no longer see into the back of the café.

Sighing deeply, the man slumped in his seat, seeming relieved.

I shifted uncomfortably as I made to go, “I’ll leave you to it.” I mumbled quietly but just as I turned to go he spoke again.

“I’ll have the coconut and milo cake with a coffee please.” He said.

I turned around to face him, momentarily shocked. I didn’t think he had been paying attention to what I had been saying he seemed so preoccupied with hiding from the paparazzi, but it turned out he had been and in fact wanted to order.

Recovering quickly, I went back into waitress mode.

“What kind of coffee would you like?” I ask politely.

“Latte. One sugar.” He told me, with a friendly smile.

“I’ll be right back with that.” I told him as I made my way over to the counter and coffee machine just as Chess came back.

“Hey guys.” She smiled, “Did I miss anything?”

Chess had auburn hair and hazel eyes. She was studying literature and had ambitions to become a writer. Chess was the youngest of us and it often showed by her somewhat over excited nature and tendency to babble. Chess was what I called a ‘fangirl’ because she seemed to live her life on the internet gushing over celebrities, books, movies and television shows that I had never heard of. Pretty much the complete opposite of me.

“The guy in the back want’s a latte.” I announced.

“Chess can do that. I’m going on my break.” Announced Daisy as she untied her apron and headed out the back.

Chess nodded as she skipped over to the coffee machine. I leaned over and reached into the display case to grab the milo and coconut cake to cut the mysterious celebrity a slice. I glanced over at him, sitting with his hands joined on the table in front of him; he seemed to be deep in thought.

“Hey Chess,” I began as I stared at him with interest, “Do you know who that is?”

“Why would I know who that is?” she asked not looking up from the coffee machine.

“He was hiding from paparazzi.” I told her.

“Ooh. Interesting.” She said as she turned around, holding the coffee bug in her hand she leaned over the table to take a look at the mysterious man down the back of the café. The moment she looked at him, her mouth fell open and she dropped the mug in her hand, sending it clattering to the floor with a loud clang, “Oh my god!”

I frowned, confused my her over the top reaction, “What?” I asked.

Turning around to face me, her eyes were wide with shock, “That’s Matt Smith!” she told me, whispering his name in an awestruck tone.

“Who?” I asked.

“The eleventh Doctor from Doctor Who!” she squeaked.

Doctor Who?

“Is that a medical show?”

“No!” she complained, seeming annoyed, “It’s a science fiction show. Its like, Britain’s most popular television show! You know, after Downton Abbey and Game of Thrones.”

All the shows she had mentioned rang a bell of recognition in my head, but nothing I could really pinpoint.

“Oh my god I have to talk to him! I have to get a selfie!” she said excitedly.

“Chess, don’t.” I said reproachfully.

“Why not?” she demanded.

I wasn’t sure why, but I felt a little sorry for him. He had just looked so flustered when he first came into the café and the look of relief that had crossed his face when Daisy had closed the blinds was just a little too poignant. I felt the need to protect him for some strange reason. That had been why I’d stepped in front of him after all, to protect him from view.

“Well, he’s hiding from paparazzi. He probably doesn’t want to be bothered by fans.” I explained to her.

“But, that’s Matt Smith! I may never get this chance again!” she complained.

I could see how much this meant to her and I was really in no position to deny her, but at the same time, I still felt the need to give Matt a bit of a reprieve. He had just finished from paparazzi, now he was going to be bothered by Chess’s fangirling? That wasn’t fair.

“Why don’t you wait until he leaves? That way he can at least drink his coffee in peace.” I bargained.

She was thoughtful for a moment, seeming to weigh up her options before she nodded, “Alright.” She agreed before she turned back to the coffee machine, “Oh my god, I have to make Matt Smith a coffee!” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

I rolled my eyes as I bent down and grabbed the mug off the floor. Skipping over to the kitchen I placed the cup on the sink before I grabbed a plate and a cake for.

Part of me wished I could get as excited about things like celebrities and television shows. But I just didn’t. I still fangirled about somethings, like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, but it today’s society, they were old news and not really ‘cool’ to like anymore. But I still did.

I’d lived in London for almost a year and I had never seen anyone even remotely famous. I worked in central London so I thought someone like Daniel Radcliff would perhaps stroll through the doors of my workplace, but he never did.

Not that I would know, I had a very limited knowledge of pop culture that basically extended to that of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. I didn’t really watch television. I’d never owned a television. I never had a twitter or a Myspace and the only reason I had a Facebook account was to keep in contact with people, I didn’t update my status or post pictures.

Cutting Matt a piece of coconut and milo cake, I placed it on the place just as Chess finished making his latte.

“Oh god, I hope he likes it.” fretted Chess as she handed me the saucer with the cup balanced on top of it.

“It’s a cup of coffee Chess. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I assured her as I stepped out from behind the counter and headed down to the back of the café. Matt looked up as I approach and smiled kindly as I placed his drink and slice of cake down on the table in front of him, “There you go.” I declared.

“Thank you.” He smiled as he pulled his cup of coffee closer to him.

I nodded, turning to leave when he spoke again.

“So, not a Doctor Who fan?” he asked.

I turned to face him in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You don’t recognize me. So I take it you’re not a Doctor Who fan.” He stated.

I realized he must have heard my conversation with Chess. I thought we had been talking quietly but apparently not. That was mildly embarrassing.

“Well, I’ve never seen it.” I explained, though I suddenly wondered if that had offended him and quickly amended my statement, “I’m sure if I had seen it though I’d be a fan.”

“It’s fine.” He assured me with a surprisingly kind smile.

I still felt the need to explain myself though. If Chess was right and Doctor Who was the most watched show in Britain, it would be probably seem to him as if I had a vendetta against the show in not liking or watching it, “Don’t be offended. I don’t really watch television. I don’t own a television.” I explained.

“You don’t own a television?” he asked, seeming not to believe me, “What do you do in your down time then?”

“I read mostly.” I said honestly.

“Ah, you’re a classics fan I bet.” He said knowingly.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling a little at my predictability, “To be fair though, my favourite books are Lord of the Rings.”

“They’re not exactly modern.” He said pointedly.

He had a point, “Well, close second is Harry Potter.”

“Ah, that explains why you didn’t recognize me. I’m one of three British Actors that wasn’t cast in that film series.” He said.

“Were you just left outside, staring through the windows like an orphan in a Dicken’s book?” I asked with a teasing smile.

He laughed loudly, seeming to find my statement very amusing, “Pretty much.”

I smiled, feeling surprisingly warmed by the sound of his laughter. I turned to leave again, thinking the conversation was over but he once again spoke, stopping me from leaving once more.

“So where is your accent from? I’ve been listening to you talk for a little while now and I can’t place it.” He said, leaning forward with his arms braced on the table as he stared at me intently.

I could have told him, but I decided to be a smart ass and point to the wall behind him where a massive Australian flag was hung.

“Oh.” He said as he turned around to look at the wall before he looked at me once more, “Australian.”

“The café didn’t give it away?” 

“What do you mean?”

“This café is called ‘The Aussie’.”

“Oh. Well to be honest I didn’t really look at the place before I ducked in here.” He explained. 

I nodded in understanding. That made sense. He hadn’t really been looking for a café he had simply been looking for a place to hide. I waited for a moment longer to see if he was going to speak to me again. Apparently he wasn’t.

“Enjoy the cake.” I said as a way of goodbye.

“Thank you. I will.” He said.

Turning on my heel I headed back over to the counter where Chess was waiting.

“Did he like the coffee? Did he like the cake? What did he say?” she demanded.

“Nothing much. We just talked.” I shrugged.

“About what?”

“About Doctor Who and books. He seems really nice.” I told her.

“Of course he’s nice, he’s Matt Smith!” she hissed excitedly.

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my cloth and went back to wiping down the tables. While I worked, I thought about how strange it must be to just be a normal person and then have people with camera’s following you around to get a picture of you walking down the street. It was dreadfully intrusive, not to mention rude.

But what puzzled me more was that money could be made off of taking pictures of people like Matt just walking down the street. Who was interested in that kind of stuff? I’d never given much thought to the celebrity culture of the world but now that I had, I couldn’t help but find the whole thing a little weird.

I didn’t care where Emma Watson went for lunch or what she wore to a premier, I cared about her speeches for women equality and the great job she did in bringing a book character to life.

I was still thinking about how annoying it must be to be constantly hounded by paparazzi when Matt went up to the front counter to pay for his cake and coffee.

“How was everything?” asked Daisy who had returned from her break.

“Delicious. Thank you.” He said as he handed over the money before he turned to look at Chess with a small, almost knowing smile.

Chess, who was standing behind Daisy looking awestruck smiled happily, “Would you mind if I got a picture?” she asked.

“Not at all.” Said Matt.

Rushing out from behind the counter, Chess held her phone up as Matt pressed his cheek to hers.

Realizing I was going to be in the shot, photobombing, I pulled a funny face as she snapped the picture.

Pulling her phone down to look at the photo Chess laughed, “Nice one Mia!” she told me.

Matt laughed in amusement once more and I went back to cleaning the tables. I was wiping a table by the door as Matt pulled it open and caught my eye, “See you tomorrow.” He told me.

“Bye.” I called as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone I frowned, had he said ‘see you tomorrow’? Why would he say that? Why would he feel the need to tell me he was coming back? Why was he coming back? Had I imagined that or had he really said it?

“Did he just say ‘see you tomorrow’?” Demanded Chess speaking my unanswered question.

“Yes. He did.” Said Daisy absently.

“Oh my god, Mia you have to swap shifts with me. I have to work tomorrow.” Said Chess immediately.

“No way. I need the money more than you do.” I said pointedly.

“Oh please?” she begged.

Suddenly the door opened again and in stepped my roommate and best friend, James. He had short curly blond hair and blue eyes. I’d lived with him and his boyfriend for a little over a year now and surprisingly, I didn’t hate him.

I always heard how it was such a bad idea for friends to move in with one another because they would end up hating one another but with James and myself, it wasn’t an issue. In fact we had actually grown closer since living together.

“Hey, was that Matt Smith I saw coming out of here?” he asked curiously.

“Yes it was!” said Daisy.

“Wow! Did someone get a selfie?” he asked.

“I did!” crowed Chess, waving her phone in triumph.

“Let me see!” said James as he peered at Chess’s phone.

“I was surprised Mia didn’t get more from him than a selfie.” Commented Daisy.

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously.

“He was totally flirting with you.’’ She said pointedly.

“What?” I asked in shock.

“He was. I saw it. As much as it pains me to admit it.” Said Chess.

“Well, look at you Miss Mia!” teased James.

“He wasn’t flirting with me.” I dismissed.

“He was.” Insisted Chess.

“He wasn’t!” I insisted right back, “If he was, I think I’d know.”

“Honey, you’d be the last to know.” Said James pointedly.

He had a point, I was a little obtuse when it came to flirting and well, romance and men in general but I wasn’t about to admit that, so I simply rolled my eyes and went back to wiping tables. In my head though, I was deconstructing the conversation I had with Matt, trying to find how anything he had said could have been considered flirting.

If Matt had been flirting with me, did that mean he was interested in me? Probably not. He was probably just thankful for the fact that I had helped hide him from the paparazzi and hadn’t fangirled over him the moment I saw him. He couldn’t have been hitting on me out of attraction when he had passed over the beauty that was Daisy. So what did it all mean?

By the end of my shift I still had nothing and James had lost interest in the topic, preferring to tell me about the horrendous day he had at work instead.

I found myself strangely anxious for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Matt Smith did indeed return and once again sat in the back of the café. Though he seemed a lot more relaxed this time around in that he wasn’t ducking behind tables and menus and needing a human shield.

I noted interestingly that he was wearing the same big blue coat as yesterday. Only today he had paired it with faded blue jeans and a black jumper. Once again the clothes seemed far too casual and cheap compared to his luxurious coat.

Going over to him to get his order, I pulled my note pad out of my apron and poised my pen on the paper, “Hello.” I greeted.

I didn’t expect him to remember me from yesterday. I was a forgettable person in a forgettable job, but when he looked up from the menu, he smiled in recognition, “Hello again.” He said with a rather happy smile.

“Hello.” I greeted, “Not ducking from paparazzi today?” I asked curiously.

“No. I went out the back way.” He told me with a sly wink.

I smiled in amusement, “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the kangaroo burger with chips please.” He said, “And a latte.”

I nodded as I scribbled on my pad.

“Curious thing to put on a burger.” He commented, “I mean, the kangaroo is Australia’s most famous animal and your willing to fry it up and eat it?” he asked.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to eat.” I explained, “They’re everywhere in Australia. They’re kind of a pest so it makes sense to eat them.”

“Yeah but, you don’t see people around here eating Pidgeon’s do you?” he challenged.

“Hey, what you put in your sandwich is your business.” I said, holding my hands up in mock surrender.

He laughed in amusement.

Hearing the door open again I realized I need to go and put Matt’s order in to the kitchen to go and deal with the new customers.

“I’ll be back with your coffee.” I told him as I turned on my heel and walked over to the kitchen. I placed the docket on the turn table and poked my head through the slot to talk to Bob, “One kangaroo burger with chips Bob.” I called.

“Yep.” He called, waving his egg flip around in the air.

Smiling in amusement I went over to the counter where Daisy was manning the coffee machine, “Matt want’s a latte.”

“Oh, calling him Matt now are we?” she teased.

I ignored her and went over to the other couple who had walked through the door. I seated them towards the front of the café, deliberately keeping them as far from Matt as possible to minimize their chances of recognizing him.

The couple ordered and I placed their order into the kitchen before I went back over to the coffee machine as Daisy finished making the coffee. Taking the plate from her, I made my way back to Matt’s table and placed it down in front of him.

“Thank you.” He smiled.

I turned to leave again but just like yesterday he spoke again, keeping me in place once more.

“So, what am I in for with this burger?” he asked, “What does kangaroo taste like?”

“Well, I’m told it’s a little gamey.” I said honestly, “But when cooked right its really good.”

“You haven’t tried it?” he asked curiously.

“No, I’m a vegetarian.” I explained.

“A vegetarian Australian? That seems like a bit of a contradiction.” He observed.

“Yes, almost like a Brit who drinks coffee.” I commented.

He laughed in amusement and once again I got a strangely warm feeling in the pit of my stomach at hearing him laugh.

“So, how long have you been in London?” he asked conversationally.

“A couple of years.” I shrugged.

“Why’d you move over?” he asked as he grabbed his coffee and took a sip.

“I came over here for university originally.” I explained.

“What were you studying?”

“Linguistics.”

“That’s like languages right?” he asked curiously.

“More of how people speak in general.” I corrected.

“That’s interesting. So you probably know where in the mouth each accent is situated?” he asked.

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

“I’m an actor. We have to master a lot of accents so we have to know that sort of thing.” He explained.

I nodded in understanding, “Well I’m impressed. It’s not a popular field of inquiry.”

And I really was. I assumed there wasn’t much substance to actors and they mostly chose their profession because it was easy. I didn’t realize that there would actually have to be any study behind anything that they did but when I thought of it in terms of perfecting an accent, it made sense.

“And what does one hope to accomplish when one studies linguistics?” he asked curiously.

“Absolutely nothing. It’s a useless field that no one cares about.” I said honestly.

“Is that how you ended up working here?” he asked.

“Sort of.” I qualified, “I was working here throughout my degree and halfway through my honours I had like, a midlife crisis and decided I didn’t want to do linguistics anymore and just started waitressing here full time.” I explained.

I suddenly realized just how much I had told him about myself and I suddenly felt embarrassed. Even though he was nodding with interest, I knew I had to be boring him.

“Sorry, oversharing.” I said.

“No, it’s really interesting.” He assured me.

I was certain that my life wasn’t interesting but it was nice for him to say so.

“So did you have to study to be an actor?” I asked curiously, anxious to get the topic of conversation off me and onto safer topics.

“I did actually. I studying both drama and creative writing at the University of East Anglia.” He told me.

“Creative writing? That must have been interesting. Did you want to be a writer?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah I wanted to write screen plays that I could star in.” he explained, “Or just be a novelist if acting didn’t pan out.”

For some reason I liked the fact that Matt had a back-up plan in case he never became a successful actor. It showed a lot of intelligence on his part, which was something I didn’t normally associate with actors. But the more I got to know Matt, the more I got the impression that he was not just a typical actor.

“I took a few literature units in university and I really liked them. I loved reading a book and then taking it apart and getting other people’s opinions on it.” I told him.

“What books did you study?” he asked.

For some reason I got the strange feeling that Matt was almost desperate to talk to me. Like he was doing anything to prolong our conversation. But as I opened my mouth I heard the door of the café open again and I turned to see three girls standing in the doorway.

I sent him a quick smile of apology before I turned on my heel and greeted the new customers.

Showing them to a seat, again a little away from Matt, I wrote down their orders and took them to the kitchen just as Bobby placed Matt’s kangaroo burger and chips up on the shelf, ready for me to take.

Grabbing the plate, I waltzed over to Matt and set it down in front of him.

“Thank you.” He smiled as he looked down at the burger, “Wow. This thing is huge.” He marvelled.

“We like to give you your money’s worth.”  I told him.

“I can see that.” He commented, “Is there a whole kangaroo in there?” he asked, peering at the burger.

“Yes. Possibly an emu as well.”

He laughed.

What was it about his laugh that just made me smile? It was infectious.

“This is probably going to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten.” He declared.

“I think the weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten was dirt.” I mused.

“Dirt?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was for a dare. The other’s had to eat ants. Apparently they taste like pepper.” I told him.

“And why were you all eating ants and dirt?” he asked.

“Well, we didn’t have a television. So we did a lot of stupid things like that.” I shrugged, “You know, stupid things you do when you’re a kid.”

“Can’t say I ever ate dirt as a child. But I did eat cat food.” He told me.

“Cat food?” I asked, “Why?”

“Well my cat was my best friend and I wanted to see what the big fuss was about.” He explained, as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation for eating a food meant for animals.

“And how was it?” I asked, smiling in amusement.

“It was quite salty.” He said honestly.

I laughed loudly, “Well hopefully the burger will taste better than that.”

After I left Matt to enjoy his burger, I swapped jobs with Daisy in that I manned the coffee machine while she took orders.

When he came to pay, Daisy was behind the till.

“How was everything?” she asked politely.

“It was good thanks.” He said as he handed over his money.

I heard the till cling as I kept my back to them, focusing on cleaning the coffee machine.

“Have a good day.” Said Daisy.

“Thanks.” Said Matt, “See you later Mia.” He called.

I whipped around at the mention of my name just in time to see Matt head out the door. I didn’t remember every telling him my name, though I knew I wore a name tag. It felt strangely intimate for him to use my name as well as singling me out to say goodbye to. What was with that?

With a confused frown creasing my brow, I turned to Daisy, hoping she would have some kind of explanation but as it was she simply grinned at me knowingly.

“What?” I asked.

“He likes you.” She smiled.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I dismissed.

…

Matt did not come into the café the next day. Or the day after that. I didn’t see him again until Thursday where he came and took his typical spot in the back of the café.

I made to go over to him but Chess stopped me, “Oh please Mia, can I do it?” she pleaded.

“Oh.” I said in shock. I wasn’t surprised at Chess wanting to take Matt’s order, I was stunned by the strange feeling of possessiveness that passed through me.

“You did it last time.” She reminded me.

She was right. I had taken his order the last two times he had been here. It was only fair that one of the other girls do it. Waving her ahead, I leaned against the counter to watch her interaction with him. I hoped she would keep it together and not fangirl over him while she took his order.

As it was, when Matt looked up from the menu, he seemed surprised that it was Chess in front of him. Not wanting to be caught watching I busied myself with cleaning the already immaculate coffee machine.

Chess returned quicker than I had anticipated as she placed Matt’s order into the kitchen, she came over to me, “Matt wants a latte.” She said.

I nodded as I went about making his drink. Once I finished, Chess was busy with another table full of customers so I grabbed Matt’s drink and brought it over to him.

“Hello there.” He said when he saw me coming.

“Hi.” I greeted.

“Thank you.” He said as I placed the drink down of the table, “I’m curious, what’s that on your wrist?” he asked.

I looked down at my wrist, thinking I had left a hair tie or something on it that had caught his interest, but the only thing there was the black ink of my tattoo, “My tattoo.” I told him.

“What’s it of?” he asked curiously.

Instead of answering him, I simply held out my wrist for him to read. Leaning forward, he read the words that wrapped around the circumference of my wrist, “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” He read before his eyes flicked up to meet mine, alight with interest, “Persuasion.” he told me.

I nodded. I wouldn’t admit how impressed I was that he knew what book the quote was from or how my stomach had gone into knots when he had been staring at me so intently whilst reading my wrist.

“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but could never stand the thought of willingly subjecting myself to a needle.” He told me.

“It doesn’t hurt that much.” I told him.

“Well you Australian’s are tough. You wouldn’t tell me if it hurt even if it did.” He said pointedly.

“Yeah well, you Poms are weak so it doesn’t surprise me you can’t handle a little needle.” I teased.

“Weak? You want to tell me who colonized your country?” he asked in mock outrage.

“Technically the Dutch found us first. They just didn’t claim it.” I told him.

“They probably took one look at the kangaroo and headed for the hills.” He said seriously, “The Dutch are a very delicate people.” He told me.

“Have you been to Holland?” I asked.

“As a matter of fact yes.”

“How was the food?”

“Not as good as this.”

“What did you order today?” I asked curiously.

“The damper.” He replied.

“It’s pretty good.” I told him, “Traditional damper is a lot blander so it’s good that they add the sweet potato and chives.”

“What’s it taste like?”

“Kind of like bread meets a scone.”

He nodded in understanding.

Knowing I had been talking to him for too long, I smiled and headed back to the coffee machine where Chess was waiting.

“Interesting.” She stated as I stepped behind the counter.

“What?” I asked.

“He didn’t talk to me when I took his order.” She said.

“So?”

“So he talked to you.”

“So?”

“So it’s interesting that he talks to you.” She said pointedly.

“I’m sure he’d talk to you if you asked him about something that wasn’t about Doctor Who.” I replied as I focused on the coffee machine.

“Fine. I will.” She said decidedly.

Indeed, when Matt’s meal was ready and she took it over to him, I saw her head bob as she asked him something. Matt stared up at her with a polite expression, but when he spoke, his answer was quick before he turned his attention back to his food.

Chess came back seeming resolute, “See?” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“He didn’t talk to me.” She said, sounding a little crestfallen.

“Well, what did you ask him?” I asked kindly.

“I asked him if he wanted anything for dessert and I recommended the lamington’s and he just said ‘no thanks’.” She explained.

“He probably just wasn’t hungry.” I assured her.

“Hmm.” She said thoughtfully.

I was still manning the coffee machine when Matt came over to pay for his meal. I was going to let Chess fix up his bill, but she was busy with another table so I stepped up to the till, “How was it?”

“Just like you described. Like bread and scone had a baby.” He told me as he handed over his money.

“What would that be called?” I mused, “Scread?” I asked.

“Or Brone.” He smiled.

I smiled in response as I handed him his change.

“Thanks.” He said as he placed the money back in his wallet, “See you Saturday.” He said and he made it sound like a promise.

“See you.” I smiled.

…

True to his word Matt was back on Saturday.

“Hello.” I greeted.

“Hello, how are you today?”

“I’m good. Yourself?

“Yeah, good.”

“What can I get you today?” I asked with my note pad at the ready.

“I think I’ll try the tim-tam cake today.” He said.

“With a latte?” I guessed.

“Yes please.”

“You’re making your way through the menu.” I told him, not bothering to write down his order.

“I want to try everything on the menu.” He told me.

“Well the tim-tam cake is one of the best.” I told him.

“What is it made of? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s based on an Australian biscuit. So its basically crushed chocolate biscuit with a layer of chocolate mousse then more crushed biscuits on the top with it all covered with melted chocolate.” I explained.

“Sounds delicious.” He smiled.

“It is.” I told him, “Back in Australia you bite the corners off the biscuit and dunk it in your coffee and suck your drink through it.”

“Oh my god, that’s so weird.” He laughed.

Again with the laughter. But to be fair, when I explained a common Australian practice like that to an outsider, it was pretty funny. It made perfect sense that I would be smiling too.

As I went over to the counter, Daisy was waiting by the coffee machine, “Latte?” she guessed.

I nodded as I leaned down and grabbed the tim-tam cake and cut Matt a slice. But just as I did, a new set of customers walked through the door. Placing the plate down I went over and showed them to a seat and began to take their order.

As I did, I noticed that Daisy had taken Matt his latte. He looked up as she approached seeming hopeful but when he saw who it was, he looked a little disappointed.

Positive that I was seeing things I focused on the tables orders, scribbling them all down before I handed the piece of paper into Bob and Bobby. Going back over to the counter, I saw that the slice of tim-tam cake I had cut was still there. I assumed Daisy had taken it over to Matt when she took him over his latte but apparently she hadn’t.

Grabbing the cake, I brought it over to him.

“Wow. It looks delicious.” He told me.

“It is.” I assured him as a sudden question occurred to me.

“Alright, I’m taking the plunge.” He said as he dug his cake fork into the slice of cake and spooned a little of the dessert into his mouth, “Oh wow.” He said as he swallowed his mouthful, “I think this might be my new favourite café.” He declared.

“Told you it was good.” I said, grinning smugly.

“This café is great. So close to where I work as well.” He said as he spooned another mouthful of cake in.

“Where do you work?” I asked curiously.

“I’m performing in a play just around the corner.” He said after he swallowed his mouthful of food.

“Really? I thought you were a film actor.” I said, slightly confused.

“I like to do both.” He told me, “I mean, theatre was where my love of acting started so I like to make sure I do a show most years. It’s like going back to my roots.” He explained.

I nodded, “That’s cool. Theatre seems like a lot more of a purer version of acting.” I told him.

As I said my words I regretted them. If my knowledge of movies was limited, that was nothing compared to my experience with live theatre. As it was I had only ever seen one theatre show in my life and it had been when I was thirteen and was with my school.

But Matt seemed to appreciate my words, “That’s a good way of putting it.” He said.

I smiled in response before I went back to the counter.

Another table from earlier had finished and I took their change as they paid for their meal and left.

“See?” said Chess pointedly

“Interesting.” Stated Daisy.

“What?” I asked, confused as to why they were both looking at me so intently.

“Well we were just saying, Matt didn’t talk to me. He didn’t talk to Daisy. But every time you go over there he talks to you.” Said Chess.

“What’s your point?” I asked.

“Nothing. Were just saying it’s interesting.” Said Daisy simply though she and Chess exchanged a knowing smile.

I knew what they were insinuating and they were being ridiculous. Matt was not interested in me, not like that.

Matt was a celebrity. He was handsome and obviously had hordes of women throwing themselves at him. I was not the kind of girl that appealed to someone like Matt.

I always kept my blond hair tied up while I was working, so it didn’t beautifully frame my face like Chess’s. My eyes were a dull brown and not like Daisy’s whose were big and beautifully blue. And worse of all my teeth were far too big for my mouth, upsetting the whole balance of my face. I didn’t consider myself ugly but I did not think I was pretty.

I certainly didn’t think I was pretty enough to attract the likes of Matt Smith.

When Matt finished his meal and went up to pay, I was busy with another table, though I was watching him out of the corner of my eye. So I was surprised to see that after he paid he came over and placed a friendly hand on my shoulder and said, “See you tomorrow.” Before he headed towards the door.

The whole thing happened so fast that I wasn’t quite sure it had happened. He’d spoken so lowly I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. But as he opened the door he smiled, erasing all doubt from my mind and I only had time to wave goodbye before he walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonding over strange stories and eben stranger food. To find out more about the story and see all the little extras that go with it, check out my tumblr: http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

That was the beginning of my strange routine with Matt Smith.

Every Thursday, Saturday and Sunday he came in, got something to eat and we chatted. They were little inconsequential conversations but I always made Matt laugh and he always smiled.

It didn’t take me long to realize that Matt was coming in between his matinee and evening performances on Thursday and Saturday and Sunday he was just coming in after his one matinee performance.

Given my prolonged exposure to Matt, James decided it was high time I actually watched something he was in, so he sat me down to watch his favourite episode of Doctor Who starring Matt.

“Ok, so Matt Smith is the last of an alien race called the Time Lords.” He said, prepping me with a little bit of knowledge before he began the episode.

“Let me guess, he can travel through time?” I asked.

“Yes. With his Tardis.”

“Is that his time machine?”

“Yes, but it’s so much more. It used to be able to turn into anything, but its broken and now it just stays as a police box.” He explained.

“How does he fit in there?” I asked when I first saw the olden styled police telephone box.

“It’s bigger on the inside.”  

“How?”

“You know in Harry Potter when he goes into the tent and its way bigger and nicer on the inside?” he asked.

“Yes.” I said, immediate knowing he was referring to the fourth Harry Potter where Harry goes camping with the Weasley’s at the world cup and their tent that looks tiny from the outside is actually big and luxurious on the inside, “Did they steal that idea from J.K Rowling?”

“No, J.K Rowling stole it from them.” He corrected me.

“What? No way! Not Jo.” I abolished.

“Doctor Who has been around way longer than Harry Potter.” He told me impatiently.

“Who’s the girl?” I asked when the female adorned the screen.

“That’s his companion.” He told me.

“Is he in love with her?”

“Yes. No. Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated?”

“It just is! Now shush! You’re missing the theme song.”

I sighed deeply, “This is why I don’t watch television.”

The episode was about The Doctor arriving at stone henge after his sort of wife River sends him a distress signal. She does this because she finds a painting from Vincent Van Gogh, who they met in the episode which predicts the Tardis exploding and she was worried.

So he arrives with Amy and they find this big box that is made to hold the most powerful monster in the universe. The Doctor is very worried because there has been these cracks around the universe which are the dividing lines between our dimension and another and these cracks are somehow connected to the Tardis.

Everyone is worried that the big box is going to open and release this monster and the Doctor realizes that all his enemies are flying to earth and there is a million spaceships in the sky suddenly they tell him that he’s the monster and all his enemies are uniting against him to put him in the box because apparently he’s very dangerous and has been causing a lot of trouble in the universe.

So it’s all revealed to be a big trap and the guy there, Rory is not the real Rory but some sort of robot who kills Amy.

That was just the first episode and somehow James coerced me into watching another.

The second episode starts with Amy dead because the robot Roy killed him and the Doctor is stuck in a box and the crack are coming together and the Tardis is exploding and the cracks are goung to explode too and the Doctors wife is stuck in the Tardis so she’s going to die as well.

So robot Rory is crying over dead Amy and then the Doctor appears out of nowhere and is like ‘Don’t worry, I got this’ and says ‘She’s dead now but she’s not dead later, it’s too complicated, I’ll explain later’ and then he gives Rory his magic screwdriver (somehow this screwdriver is incredibly important) and tells Rory to use the screwdriver to open the box to take the Doctor from the past out while the doctor from the future disappears. So he opens the box and released the Doctor and he’s like ‘How are you doing this?’ and Rory tells him about the Doctor from the future and they put the dead Amy in the box because the future Doctor told them to.

Then the Doctor from the past somehow gets into the Tardis to save his wife and then they have to go and find child Amy to somehow save the adult Amy.

But although Rory is a robot version of the real Rory he still loves Amy and doesn’t want to leave her in the box alone for two thousand years until the Amy of the future is born. Even though he can just get in the Tardis and it will be like two seconds for him to get the child Amy, so he stays with her.

The Doctor fixes the Tardis and goes and gets the child Amy who is two thousand years in the future and they go to the museum to find the box that adult Amy is trapped in and robot Rory is working at the museum because that’s how he stays close to the box.

So child Amy touches the box and adult Amy is inside and she’s alive again, but instead of being happy that she’s alive she’s really angry because she spent two thousand years inside of a box. But then, randomly, they have to go and stop this big explosion from happening by the Doctor dying so all of the stuff has done has been erased.

So then Amy and Rory (who is no longer a robot somehow) are getting married and the Doctors wife River goes to the wedding and Amy is somehow able to bring the Doctor back to life by remembering him and then the Doctor suddenly appears by crashing Amy’s wedding by landing the Tardis on the middle of the dancefloor and then the married Amy and Rory get in the Tardis to go and travel through time with him once more.

And that was my first ever experience with Doctor Who.

…

When I saw Matt next, I told him about my disastrous introduction into Doctor Who.

“So, what did you think?” he asked curiously.

I pulled a face; on one hand I wanted to tell him truthfully what I thought but on the other hand I didn’t want to insult him.

“I thought you performed well. You really use your whole body and voice in performing. It’s all really different from how you normally are.” I told him.

“But what did you think of the show?” he asked.

I pulled another face of reluctance. I didn’t want to say it but I didn’t want to lie. But in the end, I didn’t have to.

“You didn’t like it.” He guessed, though strangely he seemed delighted by the fact.

“It was just a little….” I searched for the right word. One that would accurately describe how I felt but also not offend him.

“Tell me honestly. Come on.” He encouraged.

“Stupid.” I finally settled on.

“Stupid?” he asked sounding absolutely delighted.

“It just wasn’t believable. There were no scientific facts behind any of it. What happened didn’t even have a semblance of truth that would make the audience suspend their disbelief to believe all the other stuff going on. Instead it just seemed like people were like ‘this would be cool’ and gave no thought as to why it should happen or how it would serve the plot. It just happened. It was slapstick humour, which I’m not a fan of and-” I snapped my mouth shut realizing that I had just spewed forth a giant wave of insults to his most recognizable job, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” He said, somehow he was still smiling, “it’s interesting to get a different point of view.”

We chatted a little longer about Doctor Who before I went and gave his order to Bob (Corn and Split Pea soup) before I went over to the coffee machine where Chess was waiting.

“Did I hear that right? Did you watch an episode of Doctor Who?” she asked.

“Technically I watched two. But were you eavesdropping?” I asked.

“Yes.” She said unashamedly, “But you watched an episode of Doctor Who and you told Matt you didn’t like it?!” she asked, her voice going high in scepticism.

“Yes.” I said, failing to see the significance.

“Wow Mia.” She said sounding impressed.

“What?” I asked in confusion but Chess just shook her head, I turned to Daisy for an explanation.

“You just insulted the guys job and he was smiling while you did it.” She told me.

“So? He was glad to hear my honest opinion.” I defended.

“No actor wants to hear how stupid you think their career is. Trust me.” She said pointedly as she moved passed me to head out to greet a new customer, “If he did, that only means one thing.” She called wistfully.

“You’re crazy!” I called but neither she or Chess listened to me.

…

One week, when Matt came in for lunch, I burst out laughing as soon as I saw him.

“What?” he demanded looking down at himself self-consciously.

He was wearing a dark green jumper and dark blue cargo pants, but with this rather casual outfit, he worse brown dress shoes and as if that wasn’t bad enough he was wearing bright pink socks.

“What are you wearing?” I giggled.

“Shut up. I was up at four this morning.” He grumbled as he went and took his seat at the back of the café.

I giggled again as I finished wiping down a table before I walked over to him to take his order, “So, what are you having today?” I asked.

I was pretty sure by now he must have nearly tried everything on the menu but he still kept coming back to the café.

“The Cheese and Vegemite pull apart.” He told me.

“I can’t wait to see you eat this. I’ve never known anyone outside of Australia to like vegemite.” I told him as I wrote down his order. He didn’t even need to tell me that he wanted a latte, I just knew.

“I’ve heard it’s just like marmite.” He said.

I didn’t know what that was so I couldn’t comment. I went and got him his latte, when I came back to his table he was holding an expensive camera.

“Oh, what kind of camera is that?” I asked, my eyes alight with interest as I placed his latte down on the table in front of him.

“A Leica M.” he explained as he grabbed his latte and took a sip.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were interested in photographer.” I said as I grabbed the camera for a closer look.

“You are?” he asked.

“Sort of.” I qualified.

“Sort of?” he questioned, “This is the most excited I’ve ever seen you about something.” He said pointedly.

“Well, I’m not a photographer or anything. I like being in pictures.” I explained, “Not in a narcissistic way, more of an artistic way.”

“Really?” he asked sounding curious.

“Yeah. I like how photography can perfectly capture just one moment in time. You can make up anything for what lead to that moment or what happened after, but the truth of that moment is so perfectly captured that I want to do that as much as possible.” I explained.

“Interesting.” He said, sounding genuinely intrigued, “Have you ever thought about modelling?” he asked.

“Me? No.” I dismissed, “Well, I mean, yeah I’ve thought about it, I like fashion but it’s not something I ever seriously considered.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not pretty enough.” I said simply. I wasn’t fishing for compliments or wanting him to disagree, I knew I wasn’t ugly but I wasn’t pretty enough to be a model.

“Yes you are.” He said immediately.

I flushed at his words. The way he had said them so automatically, as if it was a knee-jerk reaction to tell me I was beautiful made me feel as if he wasn’t trying to flatter me and that he was just stating something that he believed to be fact. Which made his words far more poignant.

“Thank you. But a girl that used to work here before was absolutely gorgeous and she had a really hard time getting work as a model. I don’t stand a chance.” I told him.

“It’s not about what you know. It’s about who you know.” He told me simply, “Do you have a portfolio or anything?”

“You mean like a bunch of selfies? God no. I could never bring myself to be that vain. I don’t want to take pictures of myself, I want other people to take pictures of me.” I explained.

The door opened and I sent him a smile before I went to greet the new customers. Showing them to a table, away from Matt, I took their orders and placed it in to the kitchen. Daisy made the new customers their drinks and I took them out to them, by the time I got back, Matt’s meal was ready so I brought it over to him.

“Here you go, Australia’s most famous meal.” I proclaimed as I placed the plate down on his table.

“I hope it lives up to the hype.” He said as he pulled a piece of the bread scroll and popped it in is mouth.

I waited for the face of revulsion or for him to cough or push the plate away from him in disgust. But to my surprise he actually chewed slowly and nodded his head, “It’s not bad.” He said.

I smiled, for some reason I was delighted that Matt liked something so uniquely Australian.

“So, I’ve been thinking about your modelling problem,” he began as he chewed.

“I wasn’t aware I had a problem.” I frowned in confusion.

“I think I can help you.” He said.

“Can you?”

“Yeah. I know a few photographers. If we went out and took a few shots of you for a portfolio and I showed it to them I’m sure they could help you out. Get you some work. That sort of thing.” He explained.

A strange feeling clawed at my stomach, something akin to fear. Part of the reason I had never pursued modelling as a career was because I wasn’t sure I could cope with the rejection I would surely happen.

“Come on, you’ve got nothing to lose. What’s the worst that could happen?” he questioned.

He had a point. I had been too stagnant in my life since dropping out of university. I needed some more direction in my life. Perhaps trying to make a career out of modelling was just the focus I needed.

So against my better judgement, I agreed.

We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet at Leicester Square on Monday, the next day.

…

Matt did not tell me much in way of what to wear but he did tell me not to wear any makeup. I decided to go with a sort of blank look fashion wise. I wore a long sleeved shirt with a pair of dark jeans. I left my hair out and grabbed my handbag and headed to the park.

It was a rare sunny day in London and I was glad to be outside on my day off. Matt was waiting by a tree wearing a black and white striped jumper with jeans, his camera around his neck. When I approached he smiled and opened his arms, I was a little shocked that he wanted to hug me but as he draped his arms over my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his middle, I found that the action felt quite natural. I surprisingly found that I quite liked the feeling of his arms around me.

Pulling back to look at him I smiled.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good. How are you?”

“Good.” he smiled.

“So what are we doing? You want me to go pose by some trees or something?” I asked, looking around the grassy square.

“No, you’re not going to pose at all.” He told me, “People always look so unnatural and fake when they pose.”

I nodded in understanding, “That makes sense. You’re like my very own paparazzi.” I smiled.

“Eh, don’t say that. I despise them.” He said grumpily.

I laughed as he pouted, “So what are we going to do?”

“Basically we’re going to go out and do things and when I see something that looks good, I’ll snap a picture.” He explained.

“Ok…” I said, trailing off feeling slightly confused as to what we were supposed to do with our time together, “So what are we going to do?”

“Let’s go and get lunch at your favourite café.” He proclaimed. He was so ready with an answer to my question that I knew he must have thought about this beforehand.

“My favourite café?” I questioned, “How do you know I have one?”

“Everyone has a favourite café. Especially people who work in one. So you are going to take me to yours seeing as you already know mine.” He said.

“What’s your favourite café?” I asked curiously.

“Yours.”

“Oh.” I laughed, “Ok, well I do know this little café that serves the best porridge around.”

“Porridge?”

“Yeah. Good porridge is hard to find but when you do find it, it’s like a warm bowl of joy. I love it.” I smiled.

“Lead the way.” He smiled.

We chatted while we walked and every now and again I would be half way through a word and he would just snap a picture of me.

“What are you doing? I had my mouth open. How could that of looked good?” I asked.

“It’s artistic. It’s not about looking good.” He explained.

Eventually we made it to my favourite café, 26 Grains and sat down at a table together. It was a small white ‘hole in the wall’ type café with a black and white sign. It had long wooden tables with black iron chairs.

As Matt grabbed his menu and began to read, I noticed quite a few people in the café were sneaking not so converted glances at him. I knew they weren’t looking at me but I felt a little self-conscious to know so many people would be looking at me.

But Matt didn’t seem bothered, he was quite happily browsing the menu as if nothing was wrong while I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of strangers stares.

“So which porridge is better the hazelnut and butter or the banana cacao?” he asked.

“You don’t have to get the porridge.” I told him, “They have other good things on the menu.”

“No, I want to try this porridge you like so much. Which one is better?”

“They’re both pretty good. We could get one each and share so you can try both?” I offered.

“That sounds good.” He agreed as he signalled over the waitress.

“Hello.” She greeted, smiling warmly at Matt, “What can I get you?”

“Can we get one banana cacao and one hazelnut and butter porridge, a latte and, what would you like?” he asked turning to look at me.

The girl turned to me reluctantly.

“A green tea please.” I told her as I looked up at her.

There was a click of a camera and I turned to see Matt smiling behind his camera.

“Hey,” I smiled, laughing in amusement.

“That was a good shot.” He said as he placed his camera down on the camera.

“Can I see?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t see a piece of art before its finished.” He replied.

“The photos taken, what more do you have to do to it?” I asked, though I was a little preoccupied with trying to figure out if he thought the photo of me was art or if I was art. Either way it was a compliment and it made me smile.

“Oh young grasshopper, taking the photo is just the beginning.” He explained, “there is much more to it than that.”

And I did learn. He told me all about how he developed photos in a dark room, how exposing the photos through the development of the film could change the tone of the picture, the light, the graininess and everything. It was very interesting and much more involved than I originally thought. I had thought it was simply a matter of snapping a picture and printing it out.

But that was just the development of the photo in the traditional sense. In the digital sense the photo could be manipulated to no end.

“Don’t manipulate the photos too much.” I said as I stirred some honey into my green tea and took a sip.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I don’t like those pictures of models where they look so perfect it’s not real. So don’t airbrush or photo shop me too much.” I told him.

“That’s interesting.” He commented as he took a sip of his drink, “Most people want to look the best the possibly can when they have their photo taken.”

“Well yeah, I do as well. But not fake. There’s nothing attractive about someone who looks like that.” I told him firmly.

“Hmm.” He nodded, “I agree.”

Our porridge was served and we placed the bowls in between us while we scooped out spoonful’s of whatever porridge we wanted.

The Hazelnut and Butter porridge had almond milk oats, butter, hazelnuts, cinnamon coconut palm sugar and apple. The banana and cacao porridge had almond milk oats, coconut yogurt, cacao nibs, banana and date syrup. They were both delicious in my opinion.

“You know; I feel as if I’ve underestimated porridge my entire life. This is actually pretty good.” He told me, sounding a little surprised.

“It’s not exclusively a breakfast food you know.” I told him.

“Is anything really exclusively a breakfast food?”

“Cereal.” I said firmly.

“Yeah but, I comfort eat with cereal.” He told me.

“Comfort eat?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah you know when you have a bad day and you eat something delicious to make yourself feel better. I do that with like chocolate cereal.” He explained.

“I’ve never heard of a guy comfort eating. Let alone doing it with cereal.” I said. I associated people sobbing into tubs of ice cream after bad days as an exclusively woman way of coping with things but I found it interesting that Matt was so ready to admit that he did that as well.

“All guys do it.” He told me, “We just don’t talk about it. It’s a secret.”

“So your weakness is cereal?” I asked.

“Yep.” He smiled as he scooped another mouthful of porridge into his mouth, “What’s yours?”

“Carbs.” I sighed, “I love carbs. Bread dipped in olive oil and vinegar. Sweet potato chips. Corn chips. Chips in general.”

“You don’t have much of a sweet tooth?”

I shook my head, “I like dark chocolate. There’s this dark chocolate that comes with a little bit of salt, it’s delicious.” I told him.

“You have a very sophisticated pallet.” He said, “Unlike me who would eat cereal three times a day if I could.”

I laughed in amusement and Matt snapped another picture of me.

After we finished lunch and walked back to Leicester Square.

“So did you get enough pictures today?” I asked conversationally.

“Absolutely not. We’re trying to put together a portfolio here.” He told me seriously.

“How many pictures does there need to be?”

“Like fifteen good shots. Out of all the pictures today I’ll choose the best five and use them.” He explained as he stared down at his camera, momentarily preoccupied before he turned back to me, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Are you up for an excursion?”

“Where are we going?”

“I’d like to get some beach shots. Have you ever been to Canvey Island? It’s out in Essex.” He told me.

I shook my head, I’d never been to Essex but I was a little more preoccupied with why he wanted to go to the beach, “You don’t want me to be in a bikini do you? Because I don’t own one.”

“No.” he smiled, “Just some windy shots with the beach in the background.

“Oh ok.” I said, nodding in understanding.

“Shall we meet at Kings Cross tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

It looked as if I would be spending both my days off that week with Matt. For some reason that made me a little too happy.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day I met Matt at Kings Cross and caught the train out to Canvey Island in Essex. The train ride passed quickly as we filled the time with talking.

I wore a red jumper with a grey button down shirt underneath with the collar folded over the neck of the jumper. I had on a pair if thick jeans and black boots.

In contrast to the day before, the weather was very over cast and when we went down to the beach it was indeed windy the way Matt had wanted for his photos.

We walked along the beach towards the light house, still talking. He took a few photos of me while we walked, snapping dozens when I attempted a cart wheel but once we got to the light house, that was where he really started to take pictures. Always catching me off guard when he did.

I was simply looking at the light house and turned to look at him over my shoulder only to see his camera up at his face, pointed at me. It was so windy that I was constantly tucking my hair behind my ears, something that seemed to fascinate Matt as he took a lot of pictures of me doing that.

“Hey check this out,” I called as I bent down and pulled what looked to be an old discarded net. I held it up for him to see.

“It’s a net.” He said, “Its strange how something so small and flimsy can be used to trap people.” He commented as he fiddled with his camera.

“I think this one was used to catch fish.” I said as I brought it over to him.

“You don’t know that.” He said as let his camera hand around his neck and grabbed a handful of the net, “It could have been used to trap any number of things.” He said as he lifted the net up then proceeded to drop it over the top of my head, “There. Now I’ve caught you.”

There was a certain weight behind his words that made me stop as all the playfulness from the moment ebbed away and it became something much more. I looked up at him through the net as he smiled down at me a small and secretive smile.

I had thought my relationship with Matt was simply that of friends. Yes, I liked talking to him and yes he was attractive but I didn’t entertain the possibility of liking him as more than a friend because I knew he would never return whatever feelings I had for him. But as he looked down at me in that moment I felt as if there could be something, I wasn’t sure what, but something between us.

Realizing the moment was becoming far heavier than I was prepared for as the two of us stood staring at each other I looked away as I busied myself with untangling the net from around my body.

The strange feeling, I got whenever Matt laughed and that automatic reaction I had to smile seemed to have turned inwards and I felt as if something was stirring in the pit of my stomach, building to something. But again, I wasn’t sure what.

Looking up as I dumped the net back on the ground I spotted something interesting, “Is that a restaurant up there?” I asked pointing to the road just passed the light house where a square white building was.

“I think so.” Said Matt.

“Do you want to go and get something to eat?” I asked. The two of us had been talking so much that morning that I had worked up an appetite.

“Sure.”

We walked up past the lighthouse and along the road to a restaurant called ‘The Labworth’. It was a typical styled restaurant near a beach that boasted a whole range of seafood based meals; breaded wholetail scampi, fillet of plaice and gammon steak… they all sounded terrible to me so I simply got the spinach and ricotta tortellini, which apart from the garlic bread was the only vegetarian meal on the menu.

“Can I get the fish and chips as well as a tortellini?” asked Matt when the waitress came over.

“Yep.” She said as she scribbled away on her notepad, “Anything to drink?”

I opened my mouth to speak but Matt beat me to it, “A latte and a green tea please.” He said.

I blinked in shock, surprised that he had remembered my drink order, considering I’d only told it to him once. Did he have a good memory or did he just pay particular attention to me?

“Did you ever want to be anything besides an actor?” I asked a little later when our drinks were served.

“I was dead set for the first fifteen years of my life that I was going to be a footballer.” He said, “It was my first love and the only thing that I really wanted to do.”

“And what happened?”

“I got injured, that stopped me from going pro.” He explained, “So I was kind of pushed into acting by my drama teacher and just sort of ended up liking it I guess.”

“You don’t sound that passionate.” I observed.

“I am. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I’m very grateful for all the success I’ve had.” He assured me.

“But?” I asked, sensing the word was just on the tip of his tongue.

“But, I’d give it all up to have a football career. That was my true passion. Still is.” He said, “But it didn’t work out that way.” He sighed, seeming disappointed.

“I find that really interesting because I’ve never known what I wanted to do with my life.” I revealed.

“What do you mean? You went and got a linguistics degree, you must have had some idea at some point.” He said.

“Well, I chose linguistics because it was just something I liked. Then doing that degree, I just started hating it. For a long time I really hated it but I was good at it so I stuck with it because that’s what everybody wanted me to do.” I explained.

“Whose everybody?”

“My family. They’re all really academic. It’s like a prerequisite in my family to go to university.” I told him.

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.” He commented.

“It was. That was part of the reason I moved to London so I could just escape that pressure. But I was doing that stupid degree, which was ultimately not going to lead me anywhere, because that was what my family wanted but they weren’t even there. They showed no interest in my life. So I quit. Then all hell broke loose and I was the family disappointment and I needed to go back to school and all that.” I said, my voice growing heavy as I spoke about my past.

“What did you do?” he asked quietly.

“I told them all to fuck off while I got my life worked out. I mean, I’m only twenty-three and I wanted to have some room to breathe you know? I wanted to find something that makes me happy that I want to do because I like it. Not because its what my family wants or it will make me a lot of money or anything. Just something to enjoy you know?” I asked.

He nodded, “I do know.”

It struck me how intimate the conversation had grown. I very rarely explained the inner workings of my mind with other people because it felt too personal to me. My thoughts were the only thing I had that was not judged about me and sharing them with other people, opening myself up to be judged like that, it was a risk I didn’t often take.

Yet without meaning to, I had with Matt and not only did he not judge me, but he understood. It made me feel… closer to him.

We ate our meal and continued to talk about me. I kept thinking Matt would be bored talking about me, but he wasn’t. In fact, he kept asking me question, seeming determined to know more about me.

“Do you think modelling could be that thing you need to give your life a bit of direction?” he asked as he cut into his fish.

“I hope so. That was why I agreed to it. But I don’t think it’s going to lead to a full time job or anything, I mean, I have a full time job.” I explained, “This is just something for me to do to occupy my mind. Try something different.” I shrugged.

“You never know. It could take off and you could be a famous model.” He smiled.

I pulled a face, “I’ve seen what that’s like and I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Oh?” he asked intrigued.

“Ever heard of a girl named Astrid Burgess?” I asked.

“Yeah. I know her. She’s dating Richard Madden.” He said.

I nodded, “Well she used to work at The Aussie.” I explained.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was working there until she got her ‘big break’ with modelling. Which of course, she did. So for a little while she was working as a model and working at the café and she’d tell us all about her life. Always having to look perfect and stuff, that would get on my nerves.” I told him, “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to look beautiful every day. I think most girls would.”

“Too much effort?” he asked.

“Too much pressure.” I told him, “If you look perfect one day you have to look perfect every day and I couldn’t handle that. I don’t do well under pressure.”

“Was there anything about the modelling life that appealed to you?” he asked.

“The fashion.” I said immediately, “Not the brand names or anything like that. More the ability to fully explore your sense of fashion. I mean the majority of my wardrobe comes from Op Shops because there is such a variety in there. Most clothing shops only stock one style of clothing but vintage shops have it all and I really like that.” I explained.

As I finished speaking I noticed he was watching me with a whimsical expression.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s just fascinating how your mind works.” He smiled.

“Really?” I asked, I didn’t think my mind was all that fascinating.

“Yeah. You see, my mind is always whirling. Going one-hundred and fifty miles a minute. Nothing hold my attention for long which is why acting is good for me because it’s very physical and its very immersive. I have to focus. But in my downtime I find I’m a bit of a scatter brain, but with you, I’m very focused.” He said.

“Focused on what?” I asked as I ate a mouthful of tortellini.

“On you.” He said simply.

My chewing slowed as I registered his words.

Matt was focused on me. He found me interesting. What did that mean? If I was looking at the situation objectively, it would mean that he could be attracted to me. But that wasn’t right. Not just because Matt was a celebrity and I was so far removed from his world we weren’t even in the same solar system, but because he didn’t show any other typical signs of someone who was interested.

He’d been coming to the café for almost a month before he even asked for my number. It also took a month before he initiated contact between us outside of the norm. If a guy was interested, he wouldn’t take that long.

I quickly went over our conversations in the café and none of them even remotely sounded like flirting. Even though both Daisy and Chess pointed out that Matt only talked to me, I attributed that to the fact that I had been the one to shield him from the paparazzi. We had a pre-established talking relationship that he didn’t have with the others.

If he did like me, why would he have taken so long to make a move? Was he shy? That didn’t make sense, he was a celebrity, they weren’t shy. They performed for millions and lived their life in the public eye. But had he been taking his time to make a move because he was hesitant about letting new people into his life? That made sense.

I now wondered if he had talked to me because he was interested in me in a way he wasn’t interested in Daisy and Chess. Did he always talk to me because he wanted to get to know me? Did he offer to help me with my modelling stuff because he liked me? Was us eating food together actually a date?

I was still thinking about it on the train ride home but as we sat there in silence this time, I began to feel sleepy and my thoughts began to addle because of that. I went back and forth on weather Matt liked me or not that I eventually fell asleep.

When I woke, it was slowly. My head had lolled to the side and I was resting against something soft. Not soft enough to be the cushion of the seat, but not hard enough to be the window pane.

That only left one option; as I shifted my head to look up I saw Matt staring straight ahead. I had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Feeling me shift he looked down at me with a whimsical smile, “Hey sleepy.”

I immediately sat up, hoping to god that I had not drooled on his shoulder while I had been sleeping.

“Sorry.” I apologized.

“Its fine.” He assured me.

But it wasn’t fine. When I’d fallen asleep I’d let my guard down and all those feelings that I hadn’t let myself feel came rushing in and I knew that there was no going back to being just friends now.

…

I waited until the café was empty Wednesday afternoon before I decided to ask for advice, “Hey guys, can I talk to you about something?” I asked conversationally.

James looked up from his piece of coconut and milo cake that he was eating on the counter to look at me, “Are you coming out?” he asked.

“Why do you always ask me that?” I questioned.

“Because you’ve got lesbian written all over you. Independent, don’t need no man, intimidating.” He listed.

“Never shown any interest in any guys.” Added Daisy.

“Yeah about that…” I trailed off.

“Is it Matt?” demanded Daisy.

I sighed.

“Called it!” declared James.

“I knew it!” crowed a voice from the kitchen, “Pay up!” said Bob.

I turned around just in time to see Bobby reluctantly hand his father ten dollars.

“Seriously?” I demanded.

All four of them had been taking such an interest in my love life that they were able to guess what I had been agonizing over for the past twenty-four hours? Even so much as to bet money on it? What?

“Honey,” soothed James when he saw my bewildered expression, “He comes in here three times a week. The food is not that good.”

“Hey!” called Bob from the kitchen.

“Sorry.” Called James.

“So he likes you.” Said Daisy, “Do you like him?”

“Yeah… I think so.” I replied.

“What do you mean you think so?” asked James.

“Well, I don’t know what to do about it.” I said exasperatedly.

“Simple. You take off your clothes, cover yourself in whip cream and tell him to eat like it’s a birthday cake.” Said James.

Bobby and Bob howled with laughter in the kitchen as I pulled a face; he was no help.

“I think what Mia is trying to say is that she doesn’t know how to proceed now that she knows she likes Matt and she wants some advice.” Said Daisy diplomatically.

“Yes.” I said, relieved that she at least was taking me seriously.

“Well first you ascertain if the guy likes you,” began Daisy.

“Which he does.” Interjected James.

“He does!” called Bob.

“Totally.” Agreed Bobby.

“He does not like me!” I said, my voice coming out a little more aggravated than I intended.

I didn’t like the fact that everyone was treating me like I was stupid. Like they’d known Matt liked me all along and that I would eventually wind up liking him. Though I as I let out the words, I felt somewhat on edge; finally saying the words out loud made me feel a little more insecure about my feelings for him.

“Has he made any moves on you?” asked James.

“I don’t know.” I complained, “Like what?”

“Like any flirty touches?”

Matt hadn’t touched me in any unneeded way a part from when he greeted me with a hug on Monday… There had been the time he touched my shoulder when leaving… but did that really count?

“Not really.”

“Has he texted you at all?”

“Not outside us arranging to meet.”

“Hmm.” Said James thoughtfully, “Given you any compliments?”

“He says I’m interesting.” I said.

James pulled a face, “He’s not showing any typical signs of pursuing his interest. We know he is interested because he comes here and he always talks to her. But why hasn’t he done anything about it?”

“Because he’s not really interested.” I concluded, “I’ve developed feelings for a guy in the first time in, forever! And he doesn’t like me back.” I proclaimed, “This is why I don’t do the romance thing. It never ends well.”

“Just because he hasn’t made a move doesn’t mean he’s not interested.” Said Daisy.

Both James and myself turned to her with interest, waiting for an explanation.

“Well,” she began, “Celebrities, especially ones that have a big fan following like Matt, are generally pretty careful about who they let into their lives. They have to make sure they aren’t just after them for their fame or anything else.” She explained.

I blinked in shock, that actually made sense.

“How do you know that?” asked James curiously.

“I have had my own dealings with celebrities. Let’s just leave it at that.” She said mysteriously.

I blinked in shock; what celebrities did Daisy know?

“We will come back to that.” Said James seriously, pointing at Daisy before he turned his attention back to me, “In which case, he’s not going to make a move until he’s sure that you’re not a crazy or you make a move on him.” He said, “So what have you done to show him that you’re interested?”

“Nothing really. I don’t know what to do.” I said pointedly.

“You compliment him. You find reasons to touch him.” Coaxed Daisy.

I frowned as I tried to think of any times I may have done something like that by accident, “I fell asleep on him.” I supplied.

“Aw, that’s so cute.” She smiled.

“And he let you?” asked James.

“Ah… yes?” I asked, how did you let someone fall asleep on you?

“Ok. What we need is a game plan.” Said James seriously, “When are you seeing him again?”

“I assume tomorrow. He always comes in on Thursday.” I said.

“Right. So tomorrow put a little effort in. Wear some make-up. Do your hair. See if he notices.” Said James.

“Yeah ok, I could have figured out that by myself. The problem is I have no idea how to _act_ around him anymore. I’m always thinking about what I’m going to say and whether or not he’ll like what I say. I’m over thinking everything.” I fretted before I groaned and flopped my head down onto the counter, “It’s exhausting.”

“Yeah. It is.” Said Daisy sympathetically as if this was a completely normal occurrence in people.

“Welcome to the world of dating.” Said James simply.

“So what do I do?” I asked, looking up at them.

“Act like a bumbling idiot like the rest of us.” He said.

“I don’t do bumbling.” I snapped impatiently.

I was not a bumbling person. I didn’t get flustered or nervous or embarrassed. I wasn’t that kind of person and it made me uncomfortable that once I acknowledged those feelings for Matt, it turned me into an idiot. I didn’t like that at all. It wasn’t me.

But more importantly, how was I supposed to move forward in a relationship with Matt if I could no longer be myself around him?

The whole thing was exceedingly frustrating and reminded me exactly why I had put dating and romantic interests on my list of things not to be bothered with. Like the new IPhone and Instagram.

Now that it was time to get back into the swing of things, I wasn’t sure I even knew what to do anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning sat in front of my mirror for a long time, contemplating my appearance. Part of me wanted to put on make up and straighten my hair and improve my appearance but a part of me didn’t.

I didn’t want to put on make-up to impress Matt and try to get him to like me. What kind of precedent did that set? If he liked me with make-up on, would he like me without make-up?

I realized that was my problem with how my behaviour had changed around Matt because it wasn’t the real me. I was concerned he would like the bumbling idiot version of me and not like the real me. Or worse, he wouldn’t like the bumbling version of me or the real me.

It was a giant confusing mess and I sat there agonizing over the whole thing far longer than I would have liked.

In the end, I decided to compromise. I fixed my hair in its normal ponytail and wore my regular uniform but added a little lipstick to my lips and some eyeliner to my eyes. That was it.

“What happened?” demanded James when I came out for breakfast, “I thought you were going to be making yourself up today.”

“I did.” I defended.

“By wearing a little lipstick?” he asked pointedly, “My grandmother puts more effort in than that.”

“Bite me. And I’m also wearing eyeliner.” I told him.

“Yeah but why aren’t you doing what we talked about yesterday?” he asked.

“I’m not setting the precedent for myself that in order for me to get a guy to like me I have to do myself up every day. It’s wrong.” I said pointedly.

“It’s not a precedent, it’s how the world works.” He said pointedly.

“I don’t care. I’m not going to conform.” I replied.

He shook his head, “You’re such a hipster. No, worse than that, you’re a wanna be hipster.”

I rolled my eyes and headed to work.

…

As expected Matt came into the café and took his seat at the back.

I felt butterflies flap in my stomach as soon as I saw him and I tried desperately to remain calm but I was suddenly so nervous. My palms were sweaty, my mouth was dry and I actually felt a little nauseous. How strange that not even two days ago, Matt did not have this effect on me.

Had I never really noticed how beautiful his eyes were? How they sometimes looked blue but at other times looked green? Had I never noticed how beautifully expressive his face was? How kissable his lips looked? He was so good looking I suddenly felt stupid for noticing it sooner. 

Daisy noticed my preoccupation and came over to nudge me, “Go get him.” She whispered as she carried a stack of dirty plates over to the kitchen.

Looking over at the kitchen, I saw Bob shoot a finger gun at me with a wink.

Deciding there was nothing else for it, I took a deep breath, trying to suck in as much courage from the air as I could I headed over to him.

I grabbed out my note pad as a way to keep my frantic fingers busy, “Hey Matt.” I greeted.

“Hey.” He smiled looking up from the menu.

“Why do you always look at the menu; you’ve tried everything on it at this point.” I said conversationally, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.

“Just to see if anything has changed.” He said simply.

I nodded, that was fair enough. Why had I questioned him on it? It wasn’t like he had the menu memorized like me.

“So,” I began, trying to gather myself, “What will you be having with your latte today?”

I shouldn’t have assumed he was going to have a latte. I mean, he always had a latte so it was a safe bet but what if he was going to get something different today and I took that choice away from him? This was a disaster.

“I think I’ll get a lamington today.” He smiled.

“Ok.” I said before I turned on my heel and practically ran away from him before I could say anything else that was stupid.

Daisy was already making Matt’s latte and when I came over to her, I let out a long breath.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I think I said something stupid.” I told her.

Daisy glanced over my shoulder, “Yeah he looks a little confused. What did you say?”

I quickly relayed my conversation with Matt for her quietly as I got out a lamington from the display case for him.

“Mia, you need to relax.” Soothed Daisy, “You’re over thinking everything and you don’t need to. You know Matt, he knows you. You’re not trying to impress each other; you’re just trying to change the relationship status.” She soothed.

She made it sound so easy when it was anything but.

Taking what I hoped was a soothing breath I grabbed Matt’s coffee and his lamington and headed back over to his table, “So,” I began a little more casually, “How did the photos turn out?” I asked conversationally.

“Good. I’ve got some really good shots but I still need a few more.” He explained, “When are you free next?”

“Well, I only have one day off next week which is Monday,” I told him, “But there is a bit of a problem.”

“What?”

“Well, there’s a tap leaking in our house and I have to stay home to let the plumber in.” I explained, “Would you be ok coming to my house?”

“Sure. We can get some good shots there.” He shrugged.

I opened my mouth to speak but suddenly Daisy came to join us as she finished serving a nearby table, “Hey Matt.” She smiled.

“Hi.” He replied.

“Doesn’t Mia look nice today?” she asked, turning to me with a happy smile.

I fixed a friendly smile on my face as my eyes widened in horror; what on earth was she doing?

“She looks nice every day.” He said simply as he took a sip of his coffee.

I couldn’t help but smile at his words. He thought I looked nice every day? With make-up or without. Hearing that made me far happier than it should have.

…

“Mia, why are you cleaning?” asked Paul, James’s boyfriend as I vacuumed the lounge room.

“Paul! Don’t discourage the girl. You missed a spot over there Mia.” Said James pointedly.

“I’ve got a friend coming over tomorrow and I want to make sure the house is tidy.” I explained.

This was the first time Matt would be seeing where I lived and I didn’t want him to think I was a slob.

“A friend?” he asked sceptically, “People don’t clean for friends coming around.” He told me.

“Who do they clean for?” I asked as I shoved the vacuum under the couch, what if Matt looked under there?  

“Parents and boyfriends.” He replied.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I told him.

“Yet.” Added James.

I ignored them both as I finished vacuuming. I was channelling my nervous energy into cleaning. My conversations with Matt over the last couple of days had been fine. A little jilted in that the conversation didn’t flow as naturally as it normally did but I had avoided any massive embarrassments. But I wasn’t sure I could continue on that streak when the two of us would be alone in my house together.

The two of us alone in my house together felt intimate on sexual level, which was mildly terrifying.

But when Matt knocked on my door the next day, I pushed all thoughts of beds and sexual innuendoes out of my mind and smiled happily. He was wearing a green jacket with his camera around his neck.

“Come in,” I said as I waved him inside.

“Nice place you’ve got.” He commented as he came inside.

“You want the grand tour?” I asked.

“Sure.” He smiled.

I showed him the lounge room and kitchen before we walked down the hallway, “Bathroom, laundry, James and Paul’s bedroom and my room.” I said as we came to the end of the hallway and I pushed my door open.

There wasn’t much to my bedroom but Matt looked around with interest and I could see why. Seeing a place where a person spent most of their time, you could learn things about the person you wouldn’t otherwise know. The most obvious of course was whether they were messy or clean but you could see what they liked to surround themselves with.

My room was mostly plastered with photos on the wall of my various friends but mostly of the adventures I had undertaken throughout my university years, things like toga parties and Harry Potter trivia nights. As well as pop-up water slides and impromptu trips to France.

Such things were in the past and I was no longer that adventurous or interesting. But I liked to remember those times so the wall above my bed was covered with photos. Matt stared at the pictures above my bed for a long time, smiling when he saw the crazy things I used to get up to. After a while he turned his attention to the rest of my room.

One wall was a built in wardrobe and the wall opposite my bed was a window. But the far was the wall that seemed to take Matt’s interest the most, was covered in books.

“Why do you collect copies of Northanger Abbey?” he asked.

“Because it’s a great book. But more than that it’s a forgotten book. Everyone thinks of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ or ‘Emma’ when they think of Jane Austen but I maintain her best work was Northanger Abbey. It’s about a girl who is obsessed with books, so the character is relatable and likable, unlike Emma. And the romantic lead isn’t a douche like Darcy. And more than that, it’s like Jane is mocking the Bronte sister’s years before they were even born! I love it.”

“For someone who has so many books, you have a terrible bookcase.” Said Matt.

He was actually being a little generous with the term ‘bookcase’. My books were stacked into neat rows in boxes that were turned so the lid faced outwards. It almost looked like a bookcase. Except it was made of boxes piled on top of each other and wasn’t a bookcase.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked suddenly.

We had been in my room too long. Seeing Matt so close to a bed was causing my stomach to go into knots.

“Yes, please.” He said.

He followed me out into the lounge room and I bustled about the kitchen making our drinks.

“So I’ve got a bit of a different plan today.” He announced as I flicked the kettle on.

“Oh?” I asked as I grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard.

“We’re going to do more of a traditional photoshoot today.” He stated.

“You mean where I pose and you point the camera at me?” I guessed.

“Pretty much.” He said.

I nodded in understanding as I set about making Matt’s coffee and my green tea.

As we drank our drinks we talked about Matt’s play and how that was going. He told me all about how what happened in his day to day life affected each performance; if he was having a bad day, his character would be more morose. If he was having a good day, his character would be more excitable. These were little tricks he told me about that even though he was performing the same story every night, he always found ways to make it different to keep himself interested in the show.

“Do you think you’ll be nominated for any awards?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know. It’s too early to tell.” He said, though I could see the spark behind his eyes that told me that he was quietly hopeful.

After we finished our drinks, we got down to business.

“Alright,” began Matt as I stood in front of a bare wall in our lounge room, the light from the window streaming inside, “Keep your face kind of blank as you look at the camera.”

I did my best to wear a blank expression, staring at him behind the camera as he snapped photograph after photograph. 

“Open your mouth a little bit, just so your front teeth.” He advised.

There was something strangely intimate about not being able to see Matt’s eyes, yet knowing he was peering at me through his camera. I had to submit to his penetrating gaze and that created a strange bond between us.

I followed his directions as well as I could, staring at the camera dead on as I did. With each click I felt as if Matt was getting closer and closer to me. Not physically as he didn’t step any closer, but with each click of his camera I knew Matt was seeing something beautiful not just on my face, but inside of me.

Then finally, he took his camera away from his face and his eyes locked with mine. His eyes were a strange mixture of blue and grey today. They reminded me of the sea, but on a stormy day when the sky was so dark and heavy with rain that the ocean couldn’t help but reflect that colour along with its natural deep blue.

I was so focused on placing the strange colour of his yes that I didn’t notice that he was getting closer to me.

My eyes widened in silent alarm as I watched as his hand come up and tucked my hair behind my ear. His fingertips brushed the shell of my ear lightly but that small contact still sent a shiver down my spine and made the knots in my stomach tighten almost painfully.

I was trapped under his gaze as I didn’t dare breathe. He looked down at me with an unreadable expression though he seemed strangely thoughtful.

I now understood where the expression ‘sparks flew between them’ because in that moment I felt as if the air between us had become electrified and crackled with the heat of his gaze. I wanted to look away as I was sure the moment had dragged out far too long, but I couldn’t. He was looking into my eyes and I was looking into his and neither one of us was looking away. Then, I couldn’t be sure, but his gaze flicked down to my lips for just a second…

A knock on the door sounded so loudly that it made me jump.

The spell was broken and I looked down at the ground, unable to take his gaze. I quickly dashed to the door, absolutely bewildered as to who it could be, for a moment I thought Matt and myself were the only people in the world.

But as I opened the door I came face to face with a plumber.

“Hey, I’m here to fix the leaky tap in the kitchen.” He explained.

Leaky tap? I couldn’t think of anything but the way Matt had been looking at me. But I suddenly realized that had been the whole reason I’d stayed home. I waved him inside and showed him through to the kitchen.

I glanced over at Matt as I did and he seemed suddenly very busy looking at his camera.

“It’s just in here.” I said to the plumber gesturing to the sink.

He needed as he placed his tool kit on the kitchen bench and began to fiddle with the tap.

Anxious to get back to Matt, I left him to it and went back into the lounge room.

“So,” I asked, my voice coming out as breathless as I felt, “Where were we?”

“I think we’re done for the day.” He said as he refused to meet my gaze.

“Oh.” I said, feeling slightly crestfallen.

Something had happened between us and I couldn’t be sure but I thought he felt it to. But instead of staying and trying to explore it like I wanted to, Matt was running away and I was powerless to stop him.

“I should have the portfolio ready for you when I see you next.” He said as he grabbed his coat.

“When will that be?” I asked, suddenly unsure when I would see him again.

“Probably Wednesday.” He said as he headed towards the door.

Wednesday, of course. He always came into the café on that day.

“Well um, thanks. I look forward to seeing how the pictures turn out.” I said as I went to the door. I had been so nervous for Matt to be in my house before, now I didn’t want him to leave.

“I’ll see you Wednesday.” He said as he pulled open the door.

He barely even looked at me as he practically ran out of the door.

A confused frown creased my brow as I closed the door, had I done something wrong?

I thought, perhaps incorrectly, that things had been going well between us. I thought I even saw him look at my lips, which was a sure sign that he was going to kiss me. But it had been so quick that I wasn’t sure it had happened.

But if he had wanted to kiss me, why on earth had he practically ran away from me? Fleeing the house as if he had been frightened… or been in a situation that he didn’t want to be.

…

“What do you mean he ran away?” demanded James that night when he got home.

“I mean he literally ran out the door.” I said, saying the words just made the whole thing more embarrassing.

“That ran as is, I have a boner and need to get out or tail between his legs?” he asked.

“I don’t know James.” I burst out in annoyance, “He left. What more needs to be said? I thought he was going to kiss me and then he left.”

He opened his mouth to respond but Paul spoke from out in the kitchen, “This tap isn’t fixed. We have to turn it like, five times before it shuts the water off!” he complained.

“Paul! Bigger problems here!” said James before he turned his attention back to me, “He could have gotten a little scared. You never know.”

“How though? Its not like he’s shy.” I said pointedly.

“Even the most confident of guys can be nervous around people they like.” Said Paul, “Look at James! He could hardly say two words when we met.”

“Exactly.” Said James pointedly, “When I first met Paul, all I could do was smile and blush every time he came near me.”

“How did you get over that?” I asked curiously.

“When your surer of the other person’s feelings you become more comfortable.” Paul explained, “You’re not worrying so much about whether or not you’re doing the right thing and they like you because you know.”

“Exactly.” Agreed James, “I don’t think neither you or Paul knows how the other feels. That’s why things are so awkward.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just be like ‘Hey I like you’ and see what happens?” I demanded.

“It’s what I did.” Shrugged James.

There was no way in hell I was just about to declare my feelings for Matt without being absolutely certain that he liked me back. And even then, I was still doubtful as to whether or not I would do it.

The whole dating thing was becoming more and more frustrating with each passing moment. I had gone from Matt and myself just being friends, to a friend who was helping me out, to a crush, to developing real feelings without any encouragement from him.

My emotions were in absolute turmoil and I had no idea what to say or think now or even how to act around Matt now. Everything he did, I now had to take three ways; the good way, the bad way and the way it was. It was all so confusing, not to mention exhausting.

Was all of this chaos really worth it? My life seemed to be a lot simpler before all these feelings had come in and disrupted everything.

But as I saw Paul come and sit on the couch, James automatically laid his head on his shoulder and Paul began to play with his hair.

The way they so naturally assumed those positions was like they almost fit together, like two puzzle pieces.

It was sad for me to admit, but I was a little jealous of James and Paul. I liked the way the two of them just complimented each other so beautifully. James was always so abrupt and loud and Paul was such a soothing and logical presence. But James brought out Paul’s wild side and Paul made James calm down a lot.

James was right in that I was very independent in that I didn’t need a man. I was very prideful in the fact that I didn’t need anyone.

But that didn’t mean that I didn’t want someone. I wanted someone who I could care for and who cared for me. I wanted someone who I fitted with in every sense of that word.


	6. Chapter 6

That Wednesday when Matt came into the café, he had a big black folder with him. The moment I saw him my heart jumped into my throat and a smile came unbidden to my face.

“Hey.” He smiled as he came over to me.

“Hi.’ I smiled back.

“I’ve got the pictures.” He told me, holding up the folder in triumph.

“Oh cool,” I said though I felt a bolt of nervous energy shoot through me, “I’ll bring you your latte then I’ll take my break. You can show me.” I said.

He nodded in understanding before he walked to the back of the café and I turned my attention back to the coffee machine.

Chess was working the floor and I was on the coffee machine. But it was after the lunch rush so I could afford to take a break, I was due for one anyway.

Finishing up Matt’s latte, I turned to Chess as she came out of the kitchen, having placed some dirty dishes in there to be washed, “Hey Chess, I’m going to take my break.”

“Yep.” She nodded, “Who’s the latte for?”

“Matt. He still hasn’t ordered.” I explained.

“Ok, I’ll get to him in a minute.” She said.

I nodded before I headed over to Matt, placing his coffee down on the table, I sat down in the chair opposite him, “Moment of truth.” I declared.

I felt strangely nervous at the prospect of seeing the photos. What if they didn’t turn out well? What if I looked ugly? What if I was a bad model? What if all this work had been for nothing? All the work Matt had done had been for nothing?

Opening the folder, I was confronted with an A4 sized picture of myself. It was a picture of me from the first shoot, I was sitting at a table with my glass of water, a straw to my lips, mid sip as I looked down my nose at the camera. It was strange to see that I actually looked quite sultry. Sexy almost. It was a good shot.

How had Matt seen the potential of that moment when all I had been doing was sipping my drink?

I knew he was watching me to gauge my reaction to his photos. It was his work after all. I worked to keep my expression blank. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t like his work because I did. But I was doubtful I would like me in all the pictures and I didn’t want him to mistake that.

There were another two shots of me from the first day. One where I was simply standing in front of some graffiti, looking out pensively. The other I was leaning against some railing, my head cocked to the side as I considered something Matt said.

Then there was a set of photos of me from the beach where my hair was windswept and I really did look like one of those typical model shots where my hair was artistically blowing in the wind. I looked like a model, but a little more rustic. More natural. I liked them.

Lastly there were the photos of me in my white shirt from Monday. These ones where I stared straight at the camera really highlighted my face. For once my brown eyes didn’t see dull but alight, with curiosity and questions. My teeth did not look too big for my mouth but artfully accented my lips. My nose that I always considered big and flat, actually created a smooth transition into my cheeks that made them look contoured and beautiful.

“Wow!” said a voice.

I jumped, turning to look up and over my shoulder to see Chess was leaning over me, looking at the pictures, “You look great Mia.” She told me.

“Thanks, but it’s all Matt’s work.” I said immediately.

“Oh no, that’s all you.” He assured me.

I opened my mouth to disagree, I had my picture taken dozens of times by plenty of different people and I had never looked as good as I did in the pictures Matt had taken of me.

“What can I get you Mr. Smith?” asked Chess.

I noticed immediately that Chess didn’t seem comfortable calling him Matt. That was probably because she still had that element of being his fan, where as I did not.

“I think I’ll have the beer and beef pie.” He said.

“Great.” She smiled as she scribbled his order on her pad.

“These look amazing Matt. Really. They are great.” I said, the honesty showing through in my voice.

“They really do.” Agreed Chess before she turned on her heel and stalked off back to the kitchen.

Matt waited until she was gone before he spoke again, “There’s something else.”

“What?” I asked curiously.

“I showed these to a friend of mine yesterday.” He said, “And she’s got an art show coming up and needs a new model. The one she had backed out at the last minute and she’s short on time.”

“Someone wants me to model for them?” I asked, failing to comprehend what he was saying.

“Yep. She liked how you looked in these pictures and thought she could use you for her showing.” He explained.

I blinked in shock, “Your kidding.”

“Nope. Professional job. Paid and everything. You even get a ticket to the gallery opening where there will be a lot of other people you can meet who could possibly book you for jobs.” He explained.

I couldn’t believe it. I was in shock. I had thought that there was maybe a ten percent chance that the photos Matt had taken of me would result into anything. But I thought the most I would do was have a few student photographers throw me a few fifties for helping them finish their portfolios. And at the end of the day I would have a few nice shots of myself to show my grandchildren.

I had never thought in my wildest dreams that these pictures would result in paid work and certainly not this quickly. I never thought this could be something that might turn into a profession but the way Matt was talking it sounded like it might.

“Matt, this is amazing. Thank you so much.” I said and before I could stop myself I stood up, leaned over the table and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug.

I don’t know what possessed me to but I was just so grateful to him because without him, I wouldn’t have this opportunity. It had been a long time since any doors were open to me and I felt now there were dozens and it was all thanks to him.

The appreciation I was feeling was magnetized due to my attraction to him and for a moment I regretted my rash actions.

But then he patted my back kindly and said, “You’re welcome.”

Anxious to get out of my compromising position I released him and sat back down still smiling so broadly that it made my cheeks hurt.

In that moment I was so glad that Matt had come into my life and I found myself hoping that he was going to be in it for a while yet.

…

The photoshoot was interesting.

I spent three hours in a chair getting ready. Three hours. I never knew doing someone’s hair and make-up could take that long but it did. I now had a whole new respect for make-up artists and hairdressers because they truly were artists.

The way Jenny, the tall Chinese girl who did my make-up, painted my face the way a painter painted a piece of canvas was amazing. I almost felt guilty removing the make-up from my face at the end of the day because of how much effort she had put into painting my face. It was like I was removing her masterpiece.

And Rusty, another girl who was from Thailand, did my hair. The way she moulded and shaped my hair reminded me of how sculptures created their works of art. Taking a lump of clay, or in this case hair, and making something beautiful.

I felt unreasonably sad that such works of art were so temporary. How could the two artists find the motivation to keep creating when their works when they never lasted?

Even I couldn’t deny that by the time they were done, I looked beautiful. I felt a little narcissistic in that I was always trying to catch my reflection to gaze upon the beauty I had become. I liked it. I liked being beautiful.

Not the unconventional beauty I had always thought myself to be, but an actual beauty. One that could potentially be a model.

The photoshoot was taking place in the back of a brick alley way. There was a van that was used as the make-up and change room and was also used to haul around all the lighting and photography equipment.

The photographer, Lauren, was an abrupt woman. She knew what she wanted and how she wanted it done. She moved me around like a bit of a prop or demonstrated what she wanted on her own body.

I immediately found that I wanted to please Lauren, I wanted to look the way she wanted me to. It was a strange sensation to want the praise of someone I just met but I wanted to be good at modelling. I wanted it to lead me somewhere.

I wanted to like modelling and indeed when I was given small words of encouragement and praise, I found myself enjoying the experience. But when I did something wrong and she tutted at me, or had to physically come move me, I didn’t enjoy that.

It wasn’t like when Matt took photos of me. Somehow it didn’t feel as intimate. Which I thought might not be due to the way I wasn’t being shot but to who I was being shot by.

The pictures were immediately loaded to Lauren’s laptop and I was able to see what she called the ‘rough shots’. Which were pictures before she had edited them with Photoshop.

At the end of the day I went home with a juicy pay cheque of three hundred dollars and an invite to the art gallery opening next week where the pictures would be shown.

…

“So how was the photoshoot?” asked Matt as I placed a plate of homemade sausage rolls on his table.

“It was good.” I told him, “But I’m a little nervous.”

“About what?” he asked curiously, “The job is done now.”

“Yeah but now my picture is going to be hanging in a gallery for hundreds of people to see. Someone might even buy the pictures and I’m just…” I trailed off as I shrugged, “I guess I’m uncomfortable with that kind of fame.”

This wasn’t something I thought Matt could understand. Someone who lived his life in the public eye like he did, couldn’t understand how that kind of attention made me feel. Matt was used to people looking at him, taking his picture, strangers he had never met knowing who he was. I wasn’t used to that kind of attention and now that I was going to get a little taste of that, I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with it.

“It’s a by-product of what we do.” He said.

I picked out the word ‘we’ with interest. Had he helped me with this specific career choice because he thought it was similar to his own career? Because he wanted to have something in common with me? To bring us closer together somehow?

“Well hey, if it makes you feel any better, Lauren invited me to the opening. I can be there for emotional support.” He told me.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling with gratitude at the thought, “You wouldn’t mind? You don’t think it’s weird?”

“Not at all.” He smiled, “You should have someone there to support you at your first big event. Its nerve wracking.” He told me and I knew he was speaking from experience, “I mean, hopefully this will be the first of many, but it never hurts to have someone there for you.”

I liked that he understood how I was feeling. It made me feel closer to him.

“That would be really great Matt. Thanks.” I said sincerely.

He simply smiled in response.

…

James had the annoying habit of wanting to dress me. The problem was he complained how he could never find anything decent in my wardrobe and wanted to go out shopping.

Despite what James thought, I wasn’t a doll for him to dress up and even though he wanted to put an outfit together for me to wear to the gallery opening, I chose something myself.

I only really had one nice dress. It was black and white geometric pattern, it was fitted and hugged me in all the right places. It wasn’t a flashy cocktail dress, nor was it a plain boring office dress; it was sophisticated.

The last time I had worn it was to my graduation for my degree in linguistics. I thought the next time I put it on would be when I did my honours. I’d never dreamed I would be wearing it to an opening to an art gallery where pictures of me would be featured.

I wore a pair of white heels, a little out-there in style for me but they matched my dress. I left my hair out and did a light layer of make-up mentally scolding myself for not being as good at doing make-up as Jenny.

Catching the train to the art gallery I was surprised to see it didn’t look like some old museum like I thought it would, it was sleek and modern in design with the entire front wall being made of glass. It wasn’t what I was expecting at all and if I wasn’t nervous before I certainly was now. The one thing I had been certain of was how the place was going to look and now that I didn’t know that, I was a little thrown.

Stepping through the door, a host immediately stepped forward to greet me, “Name?”

“Mia Henderson.” I replied.

He tapped the screen of his IPad, then smiled, “Can I take your coat?” he asked.

“Please.” I smiled as I peeled myself out of my coat and handed it to him, he immediately took it and hung it on a coat rack just beside the door, writing my name on a small piece of paper that he pinned to the front of my coat.

My heels clicked against the polished title floor as I walked into the gallery. There were large black and white pictures handing on the wall, lit by a black floor light that created strange shadows on the already shadowy pictures.

I stood standing for a moment awkwardly as I looked around for someone I knew. There were quite a few people, all of them dressed in a very stylish manner. What did I do? Did I walk around and search for a picture of me? Should I look at the other pictures as well?

“Hey, you made it.” Said a friendly voice.

I turned to see Lauren approach me with a friendly smile, “Hi.” I greeted.

“Why don’t you have a drink yet?” she asked as she approached me, showing me her own glass of white wine.

“I just got here.” I explained.

“Head over to the bar and get your free drink.” She advised me, “Then start from the picture by the bar and work your way through, that is the way I designed it. That’s the way you should see the series so it will have the most impact.” She told me.

I nodded in understanding before I headed over to the bar where the female bar tender smiled at me, “What’s your pleasure?” she asked.

“Ah, what can I get?” I asked.

“Any kind of wine you want.” She told me, “First drink is free. Anything after that you’re gonna have to pay.”

I nodded in understanding, “I’ll get the house red please.”

Pouring me a glass, she stamped my hand with a black ‘A’ before she placed the glass on the bench for me. Grabbing my glass, I headed over towards the first picture; it was a black and white tone, the girl was pictured by a pond in a park.

The first three pictures were of the same girl in various locations around the pond. The next three were of a girl in a park. The three after that of a girl standing in the middle of a road.

I noted interestingly that all the girls were blonde. Finally, I came to a picture of me; I was standing in a brick alleyway, looking at the camera. My eyes seemed a little bigger than normal and my skin looked absolutely flawless.

I didn’t look anything like the girl in the picture.

The girl in the picture was stylish, she had edge. With those big brown eyes, she held a wealth of secrets. I, however, did not. I had no secrets, I wasn’t that kind of girl. But it was fascinating to me that in these pictures I could appear to be someone else.

“You keep looking that way your face will change.” Said a familiar voice.

I turned to see Matt wearing a button down shirt and a pair of tight jeans. His hair was combed back and he looked quite handsome. He was close enough to me that I could smell the sweet smell of his aftershave.

“Hey.” I smiled, “When did you get here?”

“Couple of minutes ago.” He told me.

I quickly realized what I must have looked like to him, a girl staring at a giant picture of herself in an art gallery. The look on my face must have been something to see, which was why he commented on it, “Look, it’s me.” I said, pointing to the picture, like he could have missed it.

“Yeah you look great.” He said.

“I’d hope so. I went through three hours of hair and make-up to look like that. And I think some of it might be Photoshop.” I replied.

“No, I mean you look great tonight.” He corrected me.

“Oh.” I said, blinking in shock, how obtuse was I not to realize that Matt was giving me a compliment? He thought I looked great. That made me feel a lot happier than it should have.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked suddenly.

“Ah, no.” I replied, a little thrown by the question.

“We should get something to eat after this.” He said simply.

Right, that was a logical strain of thought. It made sense.

“Sure. That would be great.” I smiled.

He smiled back a little too warmly, like he was delighted by the prospect of having dinner with me. Which, to be fair, I was pretty happy about as well but it wouldn’t be any different from when we had porridge together or had lunch down on the beach. Why was he so happy?

“Come on, let’s look at the rest of the pictures.” He said.

We walked through the art gallery talking and commenting on the pictures. It was actually quite interesting to see the difference in opinion that Matt and I had on each picture. We were seeing the same picture, but not really. Each of us gleaned something different from it. I was more interested in hearing Matt’s impression of the picture and comparing it to my own.

Whenever there was one of me, I wanted to move on quickly, but Matt wanted to stay and look at the picture, examining it closer than the rest of them.

Why was he so fascinated with the pictures of me? Was it because I looked beautiful in the pictures and not in real life? It was the only conclusion I could come up with. How could I be the same person yet look so different?

After we had walked through the gallery discussing each picture of at least ten minutes, it was getting late, so Matt and I decided to leave.

Saying goodbye to Lauren I felt a strange pang of jealousy as Matt hugged her goodbye and she kissed his cheek. It was an innocent enough gesture between friends but it made me wonder why Matt didn’t touch me like that. In fact, he hardly touched me at all; what did that mean?

The only conclusion I could draw was that the two of us weren’t so close yet that he felt he could be that friendly with me. Or that he wasn’t romantically interested in me at all, which was a depressing thought. But I pushed it aside so it wouldn’t ruin my time with him as we headed over to the host to get my coat.

As the host held it out, I made to take it but Matt got their first. I watched him curiously as he held to coat out, offering to help me into it.

“Thankyou.” I said as I pushed my arms through the coat as he held it up for me.

What a gentlemanly gesture. Matt was such a gentleman and such a great guy. I found my affection for him growing with each passing moment. It was a pity that he didn’t feel the same way about me.

The restaurant we went to had a bar like feel with a long counter top with place settings along it. The stools were bright blue in colour and the positions on the countertop allowed the diners to peer straight into the restaurant.

It was called ‘Palomar’ and boasted ‘Fantastic Modern-Israeli food, pulse-quickening dance music and a warm family atmosphere’.

We ordered a starter of ‘Sweet Potato Crisps yoghurt an schug’ while we browsed the menu. I was pleased to see that they had quite a nice selection of vegetarian meals which made me wonder if that was why Matt had chosen the restaurant for us to go.

It could have just been coincidence, I’d only ever mentioned to him that I was a vegetarian one time, but he remembered my liking for green tea, why would he not remember my other dietary preference? I liked to think that Matt had specifically chosen this place because he knew I would like it, but I was also aware that I could be attaching meaning to something that was a simple as he liked the restaurant and it was close to the art gallery.

“What are you thinking for dinner?” he asked as we sat looking at the menu.

“Blegh, nothing with fish.” I replied as I crinkled my nose. While it was a good source of entertainment to have such a close look in the kitchen and the cooking, the smell that wafted from there was not an appealing one to me, “I hate seafood. I mean, I don’t really like any meat but seafood just smells bad.” I told him.

“Note to self, don’t eat seafood around Mia.” Matt smiled.

“Oh no, you can eat it. I don’t mind.” I assured him.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” he asked curiously, “You don’t like the taste or is it animal’s rights?”

“Part of it is animal rights.” I told him, “But mostly it’s that I don’t like the idea of eating something that was once hopping around.”

“Fair enough.” He said simply, “I think it’s nice that you don’t try and force your opinion on others though. I’ve met a lot of vegans that can’t wait to tell you how evil you are for eating cheese.” He told me.

“I love cheese.” I smiled.

He smiled in response and I noticed for the first time that when he smiled like that, two little dimples had formed in his cheeks that were both beautiful and adorable. Realizing I was staring I quickly focused back on the menu, “Oh my god, they serve chicken liver here? Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked pointedly, turning to look at Matt, “The liver of most animals are filled with toxins and chicken is temperamental to eat at the best of times.”

“I was more preoccupied with the octopus. I didn’t know you could eat octopus.” He said thoughtfully.

“I think if it’s found in the ocean, you find some way to eat it.” I said pointedly, “Except coral.”

“I’m sure there is a type of coral that people in Japan probably eat.” He replied.

“Why Japan?”

“They eat everything over there. And they’re very big on sea food.”

“Hmm.” I said thoughtfully, “I’ve never been.”

“You should go. It’s a great country.” He told me, “I went there on a Doctor Who convention and the people are so nice.”

“Really? That’s interesting because I went to China and the people there weren’t so friendly. I mean, they kept taking pictures of me, which was annoying.” I said, recalling my time in the strange country.

“Well your blonde. Anyone that is blonde over there is automatically a movie star.” He told me.

“I didn’t like it much.” I told him, “I don’t know how you deal with it.”

He shrugged, “It’s an unfortunately by-product of doing the job that I do well.”

“I suppose if you do anything well enough you become a sort of celebrity. Not just for acting.” I said thoughtfully.

“Exactly.” He agreed, “I like to think that if I had of stuck with Football I would still be getting followed by paparazzi.” He said.

“You know apart from that first day you came into the café; I hardly ever see paparazzi around you.” I stated.

“I’ve grown quite adapt at dodging them. The trick is to keep them guessing. You can’t let them know your schedule. If they know you’re going to be somewhere, you can guarantee they’ll be there.” He said wisely.

For some reason, his description left a bitter taste in my mouth. I couldn’t imagine living that way. It sounded like an awful lot of trouble to keep something that most people took for granted; privacy.

I ended up ordering the Fattoush Salad which had tomato, cucumber, za’atar, sumac, challah croutons, brazil nuts and homemade labneh. Matt ordered the Polenta Jerusalem Style which had asparagus, mushroom ragout, parmesan and truffle oil.

“Ordering a salad,” commented Matt when our meals arrived, “You’re already behaving like a model.”

“Oh ok, just for that, I am going to order a big dessert.” I told him.

He laughed.

We both ended up ordering dessert. I ordered the Malabi Rose-scented milk pudding with raspberry coulis, coconut meringue pistachio crunch, fresh raspberries and kataifi. Matt ordered the Fizzy Sorbet Lemon which had bay leaf sorbet with honeycomb and Maldon salt.

I loved the way the conversation between us just flowed. It was intelligent and engaging conversation that I thoroughly enjoyed. When I didn’t focus on my feelings for Matt, I found that there were no more awkward pauses or moments of silence. We just talked and I really liked that I could have those intellectual debates with Matt without feeling the need to compromise my position in order to get him to like me because he actually seemed to enjoy hearing my opposing views. That in turn made me interested to hear his views.

Though the nature of the conversation was political, we were actually talking about art and what we considered art. Matt had a lot more of a widen taste in art than I did. I did not consider Jackson Pollock’s splattered paint on a canvas art, yet Matt did. The same way he could see the performance side of a man eating an orange on stage for three hours while I could not.

“It’s because you’re an actor. It’s practically ingrained into you to like strange and wacky things because your told that its ‘bold’ and ‘unique’ instead of just being weird.” I told him.

“Don’t you think something is more beautiful when you can’t understand it? It’s profound.” He replied.

“No, it’s weird. I have a five-year-old cousin who could produce the same kind of stuff Jackson Pollock and it’s not selling for a hundred thousand dollars because it’s not art.” I said pointedly.

“Actually the last Pollock painting sold went for over a million pounds.” He said.

“Oh my god. What is happening to the world?” I demanded and we both laughed in amusement.

As our meals were served I eyed Matt’s meal with interest.

“Wow, you ordered better than I did.” I said as I eyed his meal, it looked beautiful and I could imagine it would taste even better.

“You want a taste?” he asked as he waved his spoon in the air.

“Sure.” I smiled as I grabbed the spoon and scooped a tiny mouthful of the ice cream and placed it in my mouth, “It’s delicious.” I told him, “You want a taste of mine?”

“Sure.” He smiled as he leaned over and scooped a mouthful of my pudding into his mouth.

I watched intently as he closed his lips around the spoon and I realize he had quite nice lips. Before I could stop myself I wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips.

“It’s good.” He told me.

We went back to eating our own meals and just enjoying the night. We stayed talking until the waitress came and told us that they were shutting the restaurant for the night, when I looked down at my watch I realized what time it was, “Wow. It’s past midnight.”

“Wow. You still wear a watch.” He commented.

“What’s wrong with wearing a watch?” 

“It’s on your phone.”

“Yeah but to look at the time I have to get my phone out of my handbag or pocket, with a watch I can just look down at my wrist.” I explained.

“Fair point.” He agreed, “Come on. I’ll walk you to the train station.”

I walked with my hands in the pockets of my coat as we walked. I had the overwhelming sensation to reach out and take Matt’s hand when we walked. So I kept my hand safely in my pockets to keep from doing anything foolish.

As we arrived at the train station I turned to Matt with a sigh, “Suppose I better head off.” I said, feeling a little disappointed that the night was ending. I’d had so much fun that I didn’t want it to end.

“Before you go,” began Matt as I turned to leave, “I want to try something.” He said seriously.

I turned to face him curiously, a light frown creasing my brow, what did he want to try?

“If it doesn’t work we can just leave things the way they are.” He prefaced.

“Ok…?” I asked, trailing off in confusion.

He stepped closer to me as his eyes stared into mine intently. I was so focused on his eyes gazing into mine that I didn’t notice that his hand came up to cup my cheek until I felt his thumb sweep across my cheek lightly.

His eyes flickered down to my lips as he leaned closer.

Butterflies flapped madly in my stomach in excitement as I realized what he was about to do. I had just enough time to close my eyes before he pressed his lips to mine.


	7. Chapter 7

His lips were soft against mine, hesitant almost in the way he only lightly pressed his lips to mine in an almost chaste kiss as cupped the side of my cheek lovingly. The butterflies in my stomach were flapping so violently it was as if they were on steroids.

My heart had leapt up into my throat and for a moment I did nothing but enjoy his lips on mine and revel in the fact that he was kissing me before I responded.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do, the last time I had been kissed was over a year ago. So I didn’t have much technique as I puckered my lips against his and wrapped my arms around his neck.

That one sign of enthusiasm was all Matt needed for him to press his lips a little more insistently against mine and as I felt his tongue press against my bottom lip, I opened my mouth slightly and he pressed his tongue against mine.

It occurred to me that up until then he had been unsure of how his kiss would be received so I made sure to hold him close and leave no doubt in his mind that I wanted him to kiss me. Although the kiss was innocent enough, it absolutely thrilled me down to the marrow of my bones.

When he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, I couldn’t help but smile. I could still taste him on my tongue and I wanted more. For some reason I recalled the question he had asked before kissing me, ‘if this doesn’t work we can leave things the way they are’.

“Yeah, that works.” I told him.

He smiled before he pressed his lips to mine again. I smiled against his lips for a moment before I kissed him back, threading my fingers through his hair as I kissed him back. I became a little unsteady on my feet as we kissed, teetering slightly in my heels. But Matt wrapped his free arm my back, holding me steady against him, almost as if he could feel be about to fall and wanted to keep me close.

What he didn’t understand that I had already fallen.

…

“What do you mean he kissed you?” Chess demanded on Sunday, “Like on the mouth?”

“No, it was an eskimo kiss doofus. It’s what all the kids are doing nowadays; they rub their noses together its adorable.” Said Daisy teasingly.

“Shut up.” She replied, shoving her lightly before she turned her attention to me, “Then what happened?”

“Then I heard that my train was coming, we said goodnight and I left.” I shrugged.

“Stop shrugging. There is nothing shrug worthy about this situation.” Said Chess immediately.

She had a point, the action had felt off. I thought if I could convince them that it was nothing big then I myself might believe it, but as it was I felt as if I was floating ever since Matt pressed his lips to mine last night and I was still walking on cloud nine.

“So, what does it all mean?” I asked the pointedly.

“What do you think it means?” interrupted Bob from the kitchen, “The guy kissed you. He likes you. Why do you women have to make things so complicated?” he asked before he placed a plate containing a burger on the windowsill, tapping the bell as he did, “Order up.”

“We don’t make it complicated. We just like clarity.” Daisy defended as she went and grabbed the plate to take it out to our lone customer in the café at that point.

“Yeah. I mean, the guy could just be kissing her for the sake of kissing her. She doesn’t know what it means unless he tells her.” Said Chess.

“The guy kissed her, that’s self-explanatory.” Defended Bob, chiming into the conversation.

“Is not.” Fired back Daisy as she came back over to the counter.

“Is too. He kissed her. Ergo, he likes her.” He replied.

“I agree with my dad.” Said Bobby.

Everyone ignored him.

“Some guys are players.” Said Chess.

“Some guys are just dicks.” Said Daisy.

“But Matt is neither of those things.” I said pointedly.

Bob pointed his egg flip at me, “See?”

“Did you talk about what the kiss meant? Where you go from there?” asked Daisy.

“No, I had to get on my train.” I explained.

“You didn’t text?” asked Chess, a note of disappointment creeping into her voice.

“Matt and I don’t really do the text thing.” I told her.

“That’s so weird. I’d die without my phone.” She replied.

“Well, I think you should just ask him.” Advised Daisy, “there is no point agonizing about it and not knowing where you stand, just ask him.”

“Don’t ask him.” Said Bob.

I turned to look at him curiously, I liked Daisy’s plan. Why shouldn’t I?

“You don’t want to put him on the spot like that. He’ll feel like he’s been backed into a corner.” He explained.

“Yeah, a girl can’t just ask you how you feel.” Said Bobby.

“Shut up Bobby.” Said three different voices which made me smile.

“You just said that his actions should be proof enough. What’s wrong with getting verbal clarification?” asked Daisy, staring at Bob curiously.

“He already feels like he’s told her. If she asks him it comes off as desperate. Needy.” He replied.

Chess, Daisy and myself were all halfway through statements of disagreement when the door opened and a new patron stepped into the café.

“Matt!” said Chess in surprise.

“How nice to see you.” Smiled Daisy.

“Hi.” Said Matt, waving at them, seeming a little bemused.

For some reason, I was too embarrassed to face him. The moment I saw him, my eyes went to his lips and I relived the kiss from last night. It felt as if I was kissing him right there in the middle of the café in front of everyone. It was like everyone could see it…

An awkward silence fell around us and when I looked up, Matt had taken his typical table at the back of the café. He was staring at the menu, like always and usually this would be my cue to go and get his order, but today I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

“I’m ah,” I quickly looked around for an opportunity to do anything but take Matt’s order, “Gonna take my break.” I invented.

“No you’re not.” Said Chess immediately as she hoisted herself up onto the counter, “I’m taking my break.”

“Your still inside.” I queried.

“Yep. I’m taking my break right here.” She said, pointing to the counter beneath her.

“Alright…” I quickly searched for something else, “I’ll go see if that customer is finished with their plate.” I said gesturing to the other patron in the café.

“They’re fine.” Said Daisy dismissively, “Go and take Matt’s order.” She encouraged.

“Why can’t you take it?” I asked, using a last line of defence as I was running out of options.

“Because I’m busy.” She said quickly.

“Doing what?”

“Making Matt’s latte.” She said as she stepped over towards the coffee machine.

“I thought it was my turn.” I said pathetically, I knew there was no way out of this.

“It was. Now it’s my turn.” She grinned.

“Yep. You better go and get Matt’s order.” Said Chess pointedly.

I looked between the two of them helplessly, they had backed me into a corner and they knew it. I looked to Bob and Bobby in the kitchen for help but the two of them were focused on the grills in front of them, having apparently lost interest in the conversation.

Sighing in exasperation, I tried to gather my courage as I pulled out my note pad and headed down to the back of the café to talk to Matt. He looked up when he saw me and smiled warmly, “Hey.” He greeted.

“Hey.” I said, my voice coming out breathlessly, “What can I get you?”

“I think I’ll get the corn and split pea soup with feta today. Its cold outside.” He revealed.

“Yeah it looks windy out there.” I commented. Were we seriously talking about the weather?

“Is everything ok?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t they be?” I asked, equally confused.

“Everyone is watching us.” He said pointedly.

I whipped around to see Chess, leaning back to get a good look at Matt and myself, Daisy was also leaning over the counter to look at us. Both Bob and Bobby were craning their necks to peer out through the serving slot at us.

I felt all the blood drain from my face in mortification as I caught them all looking at us.

Realizing that I had caught them, they all had the decency to quickly busy themselves with doing other things.

“Oh they’re just… ah, nosy.” I eventually said, feeling flustered as I turned back to Matt, “Do you want a latte as well?” I asked.

“Yes, please.” He said.

I nodded as I busied myself with looking at my note pad, anywhere but his face. Why was I asking if he wanted his latte? He always wanted a latte.

“Hey when are you free next?” he asked me curiously.

“Ah tomorrow, why?” I asked curiously.

“Well I figure after last night I should take you out on a proper date.” He explained a small smile splayed on his lips.

I blinked in shock, “Like a date, as in a real date? In a couple capacity?” I asked.

“Something along those lines yes.” He agreed.

“Well what if I wanted to ask you on a date?” I questioned.

I didn’t want things to be just left up to him on where the relationship was going. Now that I had some clarification that a relationship was what he was after and not just a hook up, I wanted to take control.

“I asked you first.” He grinned.

“No you didn’t, you just asked me if I was free.” I told him.

He opened his mouth to speak then stopped, “Good point.”

“So Matt, I’m free on Monday, would you like to go on a date that day? I know a great little hiking trail that I have been wanting to try.” I told him.

“Hmm, why haven’t you tried this trail before now?” he asked curiously.

“Fear of carnivorous bears.” I told him.

“So why do you want me there?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can run faster than you. So you know, the bear has to have someone to snack on.” I shrugged.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to deprive a carnivorous bear a good meal. I’ll be there.” He smiled.

“Great.” I smiled feeling absolutely elated.

“So you can report back to everyone that we’re going on a date. Maybe that will stop them looking.” He said gesturing behind me.

Turning around I once again saw everyone craning their necks to catch a glimpse of us.

“Oh my god!” I blushed, how could they be so obviously nosy? That was so embarrassing!

But Matt just laughed.

…

The next day we did indeed hike up a giant hill working up a sweat with the wind whipping around us. For most of the walk up there, I struggled with the dilemma of whether or not I should reach out and take Matt’s hand or not.

On one hand, we were hiking up a steep trail, that didn’t lend itself to much hand holding. On the other hand, we were supposed to be on a date, shouldn’t we hold hands?

That was another thing, apart from Matt saying it was a date, it didn’t really feel like a date. It just felt like the two of us hanging out. Was it supposed to feel that way? I guessed it showed that the two of us had built a strong friendship and were comfortable around each other before we decided to move things to a romantic level, but I worried, had we become too comfortable? Too familiar? Did that take all the excitement out of the romance?

But all the questions were removed from my mind when we reached the summit and the two of us stared out at the forest below and the little town dotted down there. As I stood there, hot, smelling of sweat and panting slightly, Matt reached out and took my hand, tugging it towards him so that I would face him.

At first I wasn’t sure that I wanted him to kiss me, I smelled and I was a little tired from the hike, but then I realized he would be feeling the same way and if he wanted to kiss me, I wasn’t going to object.

He wasn’t so hesitant this time when he kissed me, pulling me to him almost roughly before he pressed his lips to mine. I responded by wrapping my arms arounds his neck and pulling him closer to me. The back of his neck was hot and a little slippery from sweat but I didn’t mind, I was too caught up in kissing him.

It was awfully romantic when I thought about it, kissing at the top of a hill with the sun shining over us beautifully. It made knots in my stomach clench excitedly as I felt my heart beat just a little faster in excitement.

As he pulled back to look at me he smiled, “Yeah. That still works.” He said and I knew he was referring to the question he had asked me on Saturday night.

“Yeah, it definitely still works.” I agreed with a smile before I pulled him to me and kissed him again.

We walked down the hill, hand in hand, both of us grinning from ear to ear.

…

“You’re second favourite café?” I asked as we walked down the street, hand in hand the following day.

“Yeah because they serve the best coffee. The Aussie is my favourite café.” He told me.

“What do you like about The Aussie that makes it your favourite?” I asked curiously.

“Well for one thing, I like the wait staff. They’re very pretty.” He told me.

“Oh really?” I asked, a smile coming unbidden to my face.

“Yeah theirs this blonde one that I particularly like.” He grinned.

“You must be thinking of Daisy; she’s recently dyed her hair blonde.” I told him.

“Must be.” He agreed.

I laughed at his joke as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek which caused me to smile and blush at the same time.  

The physical affection between us was still a little awkward because it was new. It was a testament to how well me knew each other in that we were still very courteous with each other. We weren’t all over each other like most new couples, but we weren’t two shy kids who had no idea what to do with one another.

Matt’s second favourite café was called ‘Attendant’ and was set out in a bar like fashion with two long counter tops, one against the wall and one against the kitchen area. The tiles were the old style black and white diamonds. The walls were white tile at the top half of the wall before changing into dark green tile. The benches matched that in that they were wooden counter tops and the metal stools beneath them were the same green as the tiles.

“Best coffee in this place.” He told me as we sat down, “You will not find a better coffee.”

“That’s a pretty big compliment coming from you, coffee snob.” I grinned.

“I’m not a coffee snob, I just have a fine appreciation for the brewed beverage of the Brazilian people.” He said simply.

“What about having a fine appreciation for the beverage of your ancestors?” I asked pointedly. 

“What tea?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Green tea is Japanese.” He told me.

“Yeah but I’m talking about English Breakfast tea and Earl Grey. How can you not like them?” I asked, “Your British.” I said pointedly.

“Tea is depressing.” He said.

“Depressing?”

“Yeah. If I was making a tea advert, I would want to communicate about tea is that it can console you, it can start your day, there is the warmth and the ritual, and you can share it; you make someone a cup of tea and you offer it to them.” He explained.

I laughed at his logic as I grabbed a menu off the counter in front of us and began to read, “Oh look! They serve tea.” I said in delight.

I ordered a pot of Hibiscus tea just to be a little different while Matt ordered a latte.

“How original.” I teased.

“Bite me.” He retorted.

Not one to turn away from a challenge, I brought our joined hands up to my mouth and nipped at the skin on the back of his hand.

“Ow.” He complained as I laughed in amusement, “If you’re that hungry we better order something to eat.”

“Ok.” I agreed.

I ordered the Smashed Avocado on sourdough toast with poached eggs that also came with rocket, red chilli, feta and Lime with pimento dressing.

Matt ordered the Congee with poached egg, it was brown rice porridge, with shiitake mushrooms, gilled baby gem, spring onions, red chilli, carrots, daikon, all drizzled with lime.

“So what are you doing next Friday night?” he asked me curiously as we dug into our meals.

“I’m going out with Chess to celebrate her first week back at university.” I told him, “Why?”

“Well, remember when you told me about your friend Astrid?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well she’s dating a friend of mine.”

“Your friends with Richard Madden?” I asked curiously.

He nodded, “We met at Comic Con.”

“You mean the world biggest nerd convention.” I grinned.

“Hey, I think that, if the world was a bit more like Comic-Con, we'd all be a little happier.” He said seriously and I grinned as I cut into my toast, “Anyway, I thought you might want to go on a double date with them.”

“Oh, that’s very couplie of us.” I commented.

“Is that bad?”

“No. I just didn’t think we were at that stage in the relationship yet.” I said honestly.

“What stage is that?”

“The stage where we are so bored with our relationship we spice it up by adding other people into it.” I replied.

“I think you mean swingers.” He said, seeming amused.

“I think I’m free next Sunday if you want to organize something that night.” I offered.

“Ok, I tee it up with Rich.” He said as he turned back to his meal.

It struck me as odd that Matt wanted to do something that in my mind was for already established couples when we were just starting out. But maybe that was my glimpse into the way he viewed us as a strong couple because we had built our relationship on such a solid friendship. Which made sense.

I’d been out of the dating game for a long time and I was still getting back into the swing of things. I forgot how quickly relationships could move and what I perceived as fast was probably just a natural progression.

…

“It’s a couple’s dinner and I totally get it.” Declared Chess as we stood at the bar, sipping our drinks, “Guys want to show off their girlfriends to their friends.” She explained.

“Yeah but isn’t it too soon?” I asked.

“Not at all.” Interrupted Daisy, who was looking radically different nowadays with blonde hair, though she still looked amazing, “Girls are the same. When we get a guy we want to show them off to all our friends.”

“Right, it’s like you’ve got this shiny new toy.” Agreed Chess’s friend from university, Mackie.

“Matt Smith is a pretty great toy.” Smiled James as he took a sip from his apple martini, “Have you taken that toy out of the box and played with it yet?” he grinned at me over the top of his drink.

“No, not yet.” I blushed.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Not everyone is as easy as you babe.” Said Paul pointedly.

“I’m not easy. I just know what I want and I wanted in your pants from the moment we met. I didn’t see much point in prolonging the inevitable.” He shrugged.

“Inevitable?” he queried.

“Oh please. You were undressing me with your eyes the moment you saw me.” James countered with a grin.

I smiled at the two of them, still so in love after all their time together. I only hoped one day to have a relationship like theirs.

“So I have a question to ask,” began Daisy as she took a sip of her drink.

“Are you coming out?” asked James.

“That joke is not funny.” Said Mackie pointedly.

“No, you’ve probably all noticed I’ve dyed my hair.” She said.

“That’s what was different about you.” Smiled Chess, “I knew it was something.”

“Well I’m heading back to Australia after being away from home for nearly two years and ah, I’m not going back there by myself.” She said and her cheeks grew a little red, “I’ll be heading back there with a guy that I like.”

“Who’s the guy?” asked Paul nosily.

“I’ll get to that later.” Said Daisy dismissively, “my question is that we’ve been friends for a while and I want to know how to move our relationship to the next level.”

“Simple,” said James, “Get naked, pour maple syrup over yourself and ask him if he’s in the mood for a short stack.”

That joke was about as helpful as the time he had told it to me so I ignored him as I tried to help Daisy with her situation.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” asked Chess.

“He’s a guy of few words.” She said, seeming uncomfortable.

“Who’s the guy?” asked Paul again.

Daisy ignored him and focused her attention on her drink.

“Well you could do what Matt and I did, kiss with the preface that if it doesn’t work you go back to being friends.” I supplied.

“Do you think that will work? We’ve been friends for a while and while I’ve always had feelings for him, I’ve never tried to take it to the next level before.” Said Daisy.

“Why now?” asked Mackie.

“Because I’ve gotten a few hints from him that he might be interested.” She explained.

“How can he not be? Have you seen you?” I asked pointedly.

“Yeah, but, who’s the guy?” asked Paul.

“Who’s the guy?” asked James.

Daisy blushed as if she was a little embarrassed about admitting who the guy she was potentially dating was.

“I know.” Smiled Chess.

“You do?” asked James.

“How do you know?” asked Paul.

“I was there when he came into the café. He’s not the kind of guy you forget.” She smiled.

“Oooh.” Said James, grinning wickedly.

“Now I really want to know who it is.” Said Paul.

Daisy sighed deeply as she grabbed her drink, she mumbled his name as she took a sip.

I blinked in shock, sure I had not heard her right.

“What was that?” asked Mackie.

“Chris Hemsworth.” She said a little louder.

“What?!” screeched James.

“Chris Hemsworth!” she said loudly.

“What?!” he screeched again.

Daisy opened her mouth the speak again but I put my hand on her leg, “He gets it. He’s being facetious.” I told her.

So many things suddenly made sense; how Daisy was always so calm around Matt when Chess was not. Why she had such a unique look into the celebrity mind and why she was always so secretive about her private life. So many pieces of the puzzle that made up Daisy were suddenly falling into place…

“Well gee, you just had to one up Mia didn’t you Daisy.” Said Chess pointedly.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Well, Mia’s dating a television star. You had to go and do better by dating a movie star.” She explained.

The whole group laughed.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

André Balazs is one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, with a net worth estimated at four-hundred and fifty million. But rather than follow the example of George Best (who once said ‘I spent ninety percent of my money on women, drink and fast cars; the rest I wasted’), the Hungarian-born US citizen has set about building a hotel and restaurant empire, starting with Chateau Marmont in Hollywood and progressing through to London where he had started up his latest masterpiece; Chiltern Firehouse.

A lovely 1889 Grade II-listed Victorian-gothic fire brigade building has been rebuilt from the inside out, and now boasts a discreetly gated garden as the entrance. The staff’s aura of professionalism and sincerity is guaranteed as they’re uniformly well drilled and rarely go off-script. Getting a table in the exclusive restaurant wasn’t hard… if you were David Beckham.

Or as it turned out, Matt Smith, Astrid Burgess and Richard Madden.

Not wanting to appear under-dressed I called Astrid and asked her what she was wearing.

“I hadn’t really thought about it yet.” She said honestly.

“Can you recommend something for me to wear?” I asked feeling desperate.

“Try to go for a casual office look. So a blazer with jeans and a nice top.” She advised.

And that was exactly what I did. I wore yellow, black and white checker jacket that I had picked up at a vintage store. It was a little retro but I liked it because I thought it was stylish. I paired it all with a black top and black pants and black boots, the jacket was so colourful that to pair any other colour with it would have been too much.

Matt looked gorgeous in skinny jeans, a button down shirt and a blazer and we walked hand in hand down the street to the restaurant where Astrid and Richard were already inside.

As we stepped inside I did notice there were a lot of paparazzi out the front but they were a little too preoccupied with photographing Emma Watson to pay much attention to Matt and certainly not me so we were able to slip inside quite easily. Though as I saw Emma Watson struggle to get into the waiting car for her, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. All she wanted to do was get into her car and the paparazzi were crowding her, shouting at her, sticking their camera’s in her face… I was overwhelmed just watching the entire spectacle. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be in Emma’s position.

As seemed to be the vogue with restaurants nowadays there was a long bar with stools lined up along it that peered into the kitchen. But unlike some of the other places we had been, this restaurant also offered a range of booths and tables. The booths had cream wood and dark brown leather cushions and the tables followed a similar fashion in that the wood of the table was white but the chairs were the same dark brown colour as the cushions in the booths. The walls were white brick and keeping with the colour scheme, the floor was white and dark brown tiles.  

Astrid was wearing a white blazer and matching pair of pants that were decorated with pastel coloured butterflies. She wore no top under her blazer which gave her an edgy stylish look. She looked amazing as she always did.

“Mia!” she said excitedly, standing when she saw me she immediately pulled me in for a hug.

“Hey Astrid.” I said as I held her for a moment.

It was so strange to see her after so long apart. There had been a point in time when I had seen Astrid nearly every day and now it had been nearly a year since I had physically seen her, even though I’d seen her image on dozens of adverts and most famously in the Victoria Secret Fashion show. But that was different from actually seeing her in the flesh.

I was so caught up in hugging her that I almost missed the stunning man by her side who stood up to greet Matt like an old friend. He had dark curly hair and beautiful blue eyes; Richard Madden.

“Hey Matt,” said Astrid as she released me and gave Matt a brief hug.

“Hey Astrid.” He greeted.

Turning to Richard I smiled, out of the group we were the only two that didn’t know each other, so I decided to take the initiative to introduce myself to him, “Hi, I’m Mia.” I said as I offered him my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled as she shook my hand, “I’m Richard.”

Taking our seats, we broke off into two separate conversations; I spoke to Astrid about her career as a successful model and my budding career as one. Matt and Richard caught up about their various projects.

We then all turned to the menu as the waitress approached us. The boys ordered a beer each and Astrid and myself decided to split a bottle of wine between us.

I decided to get the Cauliflower Heart with sour cream and truffle, Matt got the Peat Smoked Short Rib with charred spring cabbage, Richard got the Slow Cooked Lamb with carrot, caraway and mint and Astrid got Seared Salmon with grilled yellow beans and French dressing.

“So tell us how you two met,” said Richard as we all finished placing our orders.

“Funnily enough he came into the café where Astrid and I both worked.” I smiled.

“I was ducking the paparazzi.” Explained Matt, “And Mia here was kind enough to hide me from view.” He said turning to me with a smile.

I smiled back, “What he means is that he used me as a human shield.” I told them.

Both Richard and Astrid laughed.

“How did you two meet?” I asked curiously.

“Mutual friend introduced us.” Said Richard.

“What he means is that Richard stalked me and got a mutual friend to introduce us so he wouldn’t look weird.” Said Astrid.

We all laughed again.

The food was delicious and the company was lovely. It was an enjoyable night until the end when the paparazzi got involved.

Richard and Astrid went first and I was surprised by how ferocious the paparazzi were. Astrid put on a pair of her signature wacky sunglasses and kept her head down. Richard kept a tight hold on her and the two just ploughed through the crowd to get to their car.

The way they crowded around the two of them, calling out to them, sticking their camera’s in her face. They had no respect for personal space all they cared about was getting their picture.

“We have to go out there in that?” I asked as fear clawed at my stomach.

Matt had ordered us an Uber and there was no way the two of us were going to be able to avoid the paparazzi this time. Even though I knew they would not be interested in photographing me, I was with Matt, so they would by proxy photograph me and that made me nervous. What would they do with those pictures? Would they sell them? Pin them on their walls? What?

I had never had my picture taken before without my permission and now I was faced with that problem I was actually quite revolted by the prospect.

“It ok.” Soothed Matt as he held my hand, “I’ll be with you the whole time.” He assured me.

That did little to comfort me because I knew if he wasn’t with me, no one would care. But I appreciated the gesture.

Eventually our Uber arrived and Matt held my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Are you ready?” he asked.

“No.” I said honestly, but I didn’t have a choice.

As the staff opened the door for us, the whole world exploded.

“Matt! Look this way Matt!”

“Who’s the girl Matt? Matt?”

“Is this your new girlfriend Matt?”

“Matt! Oh my god Matt!”

For a moment I could console myself that they weren’t paying any attention to me. But as we stepped out onto the street and Matt began to pull me through the crowd, his hand very firmly in mine, they began to take more notice of me.

“This this way beautiful!”

“Is Matt your boyfriend?”

“Who are you?”

“What’s your name?”

“How long have you and Matt been together?”

“Look here! Look here!”

I began to feel overwhelmed. With all the paparazzi pushing their camera’s in closer to me, I felt as if the world was shrinking. I’d never been claustrophobic before but as the paparazzi pushed their camera’s into my face, the bright lights flashing, I began to feel as if all the air was being sucked out of the world.

I could feel the weight of their stares upon me and I began to feel uncomfortable. Embarrassed even as they continued to pepper me with questions and shove their camera’s in my face.

Even though the car was parked right in front of the restaurant, getting to the car felt like an age. When Matt opened the door of the car I practically fell inside, scrambling across the back seat, I slid to the opposite side of the car in an effort to put as much distance between myself and the paparazzi as possible.

Matt jumped into the car right after me, shutting the door quickly behind him.

Now that the sound of the paparazzi was dulled slightly I was able to breathe. I took what felt like my first breath in ages and I stared down at the floor of the car as a ringing in my ears.

“Hey,” soothed Matt as he slid across the seat and wrapped his arm around me, “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

I nodded but I felt vile build in my throat; I felt violated. These men, which cameras had entered my personal space, taken my picture without my permission and shouted at me… it had all been a little too much to take and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“I just need a minute.” I murmured.

I focused on my breathing as Matt rubbed soothing circles on my back.

“It will get easier.” He told me

Although I desperately wanted to believe his words I wasn’t sure something like that could get easier. By the way he said it, he expected the experience to get easier via familiarity and I wasn’t sure I could handle something like that becoming a reoccurring event in my life.

…

Matt performed in his play every night from Tuesday to Saturday. He performed matinee on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday.

I always had Mondays off. Every second week I would have Tuesday off as well. But I worked through Wednesday through to Sunday. Saturday and Sunday both Daisy and Chess worked with me.

Monday was our shared day off and we always spent it together. Whether that was going hiking and taking a picnic, trying a new café or just spending time together at either one of our houses, we were always together on Monday.

Matt continued to come into the café on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday. Nothing changed except that he would give me a chaste kiss on the lips when he left.

I avoided doing things at night with Matt because that was when the paparazzi were most active. If we went outside, we did not go to popular areas where the paparazzi might find us. I had developed an almost irrational fear of having them photograph me again.

After what had happened at the restaurant, I did something I had never done before; I googled Matt. Sure enough of a site called ‘Just Jared’ I found the paparazzi pictures of us. I looked as scared as I felt, wide eyed and pale, it was obvious I had no idea what I was doing. Seeing the pictures made the whole thing worse because now it was real, that horrible moment of my life immortalized on film forever.

I began to avoid all instances where the paparazzi could possibly photograph us. I was sure Matt must have noticed my aversion, but he didn’t comment on it.

With time came familiarity and my relationship with Matt went from strength to strength. We were now more comfortable with being physically affectionate with each other, though it still thrilled me every time he touched me. We now had a solid relationship not only as friends but as a couple now.

…

“It’s going to bite me!” fretted Matt as he pulled both of his feet from the stirrups and bunched them up to his chest on the saddle.

“It’s not going to bite you. It’s a cow.” I called as I bounced confidentially in my saddle along with the horse’s strides.

Matt had made the mistake of telling me how he had never been on a horse and how it was actually a fear of his. As someone who had grown up around horses and loved the animal dearly, I could not understand his fear, so I resolved to get him to move past it.

I’d found a horse ranch just outside of London that allowed the patrons to ride the trails as well as round up the cattle, moving them from one paddock to another. It was nothing I hadn’t done before, in fact the things they were asking of the riders was quite easy. Even though I hadn’t been on a horse in many years, it all came rushing back to me and I sat in the saddle once more like I was born to it.

Matt however was not so gifted.

He held the reins too loosely so that any attempt he made to steer his horse was completely ignored by the animal. That was just when he was holding the reins, half the time he dropped them and just held onto the horn of the saddle because, as he claimed ‘that felt more secure’. He looked awkward and uncomfortable in the saddle with his shoulders hunched and his head on a constant swivel as he eyed the cows nervously and stared at the horse beneath him with something akin to fear.

I could not understand his fear of horses. They were such gentle and loving animals that had a beautiful amount of strength and force that drove them. They were beautiful creatures. Matt did not share my sentiments.

It said something about the organizers of the camp that they gave me a cowboy hat to wear on my head and gave Matt a helmet. It was obvious out of the two of us who would need the extra protection.

It was left up to me to round up the cattle and move them from one side of the paddock to the other while Matt’s horse plodded along at its own achingly slow pace with Matt holding on for dear life as if the horse was galloping out of control.

The whole thing was quite humorous but I tried not to tease him as I could see his fear was genuine.

At lunch we sat in the mess hall of the ranch to eat, eating typical American style food. I had a veggie burger while Matt had a Hamburger and we shared our chips.

“I’ve got nothing against horses,” explained Matt as he dipped one of his chips into the pot of tomato sauce provided too us, “They’re just so big and unpredictable.”

“They’re beautiful and they’re not unpredictable if you know how to read them.” I told him as I chewed a mouthful of veggie burger.

“How do you read a horse?” he asked.

“Simple,” I explained, “You look for the position of their ears. How they are standing. How focused they are. Heaps of things. It’s just like reading how a human being feels.”

“Position of their ears?” he demanded, “What on earth does that mean?”

“Well if a horse’s ears are back, they aren’t happy.”

“But what if their head is up high and you can’t see their ears?” he asked frightfully.

“You look for other signs.” I said calmly, “You’ll learn if we do this again.”

“You want to do this again?” he demanded shrilly.

“Yes.”

“Wasn’t once enough?”

“No, I never realized how much I missed horse riding until today.”

“You’re crazy.” He said shaking his head, “Can’t we do something else? I know you like outdoors stuff, let’s go rock climbing!”

Although I shook my head and dismissed him at the time, we did indeed go rock climbing the following Monday.

…

“Don’t look down!” called Matt.

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re at the bottom!” I called fearfully.

The rock climbing part of the day I had been ok with. I was focused with looking up the rock face and where I needed to go. Finding the next hand hold and foot hold took up all of my concentration. But now that I was at the top of the rock face, having rung the bell in triumph, I was supposed to abseil back down the wall and that I was uncomfortable with.

Uncomfortable was an understatement; I was scared.

I was literally supposed to let go of the wall and just gently float back down to the ground. Like gravity didn’t exist. More than that they actually wanted me to bounce off the wall to slow my descent, what was to stop me from plummeting to my death?! This flimsy little rope? I highly doubted it.

“Just let go! You’ll be fine!” called Matt.

It went against every instinct in my body to let go of the wall, the one thing holding me up! Why would I ever let go?!

“Come on! You can do it!” he called encouragingly.

It was only because I had seen Matt doing it safely and had his voice of encouragement in my ear that I let go of the wall and clutched at the rope holding me up for dear life.

For a split second there was that terrible feeling in my stomach of fear mixed with falling, it flared so violently for a moment that my whole body tensed and I was unable to move, frozen with fear. Then the rope went tight and I was suspended in mid-air for a moment before the rope slowly went slack and lowered me back down to the ground where Matt was waiting for me.

With my feet firmly back on the ground I smiled as sweet relief washed over me, quickly followed by triumph in having conquered a fear.

“That was scary.” I breathed as I braced my hands on my knees and looked up at him, my heart was still beating a little erratically due to my fear.

“Not as scary as a horse.” He told me.

“Oh come on! Horses are nowhere near that scary.” I argued as I straightened up as I unclipped myself from the safety rope that supported me in my climbing.

“Speak for yourself.” He said as he pulled me to him.

Normally I wouldn’t have kissed him, we were in a crowded rock climbing centre after all and lavish public displays of affection made me uncomfortable. When I watched couples practically dry-humping in public, I couldn’t help but ask myself what the point of it was? Did they just want everyone to know how in love they were or could they literally not contain themselves and just had to touch each other? But in my own experience, the thought of people watching us, as affectionate couples often drew the eyes of those around them.

But I was feeling elated having conquered the wall, so I wrapped my arms around his neck, though our bulky harnesses were in the way of us getting too carried away, when he kissed me, I still couldn’t help but smile.


	9. Chapter 9

It was Daisy who came up with the idea of going on a double date.

I of course loved the idea of going on another double date as Matt and myself had so much fun last time. Hanging out with Daisy would be fun and I was interested to meet Chris Hemsworth.

But given how that had turned out last time, I was reluctant to go anywhere that the paparazzi might find us once more. Chris Hemsworth was a hotter commodity than Richard and Matt so I suggested we stay in.

“You can all come to our place.” Smiled James happily.

Both Daisy and I exchanged similar looks of uneasy. James’s infatuation with Chris Hemsworth was well documented and neither one of us wanted to expose Daisy’s new boyfriend to the acquired taste that was James.

“How about dinner at my place?” suggested Daisy, “I can cook.”

“Excellent. I can make something for dessert.” I smiled, so relieved by her absolutely perfect suggestion that I would have agreed to about anything in order to make it work.

Having dinner at Daisy’s apartment guaranteed that there would be no paparazzi at any point in the night. I wouldn’t have to worry about what I wore, the whole thing would be a lot more relaxed. It would be perfect.

“Are you a vegetarian or a vegan?” asked Daisy, “I know your one but I can’t remember which one.”

“Vegetarian.” I told her.

“Great, I’ll make a quiche I think.” She said thoughtfully, “With like maybe a salad. Chris eats so much. It’s ridiculous.”

“Excuse me? Why has no one asked me if I want to come to this couples gathering?” demanded James, “Did anyone think ‘Oh hey, Thor and the Doctor will be in the same room! Why not let James have his nerd-gasm and be in the same room as these two hotties?’”

There was a very clear reason why James was not invited because both of us knew he would not be able to contain himself and would be beside himself the whole night fan girling over our two boyfriends.

“Just trying to make it fair James.” Explained Daisy, “Chess can’t come. Wouldn’t be fair for you to live your nerd dream and for her to not live hers.”

I grinned in amusement, “Yes. She’s absolutely right.” I agreed. Though I would have been more comfortable inviting Chess along to our couple’s night than James. But as it was, Chess did not have a boyfriend, so we didn’t want her to feel like a fifth wheel.

“This is bullshit.” He burst out suddenly, “First Gerty, now you and Daisy. I’m beginning to think everyone is dating a celebrity but me.”

I didn’t know who Gerty was but I couldn’t help but grin at his petulance.

“Paul is kind of a celebrity. He plays the cello. He has an album out.” Soothed Daisy.

“It doesn’t count.” Pouted James.

I exchanged a look with Daisy before the two of us focused on our work so we would not burst out laughing.

…

I decided to make red velvet cake with cream cheese icing. It was one of my favourite types of cakes and from what I gathered, no one had any real aversions to the cake.

Matt picked me up in his car and I nursed the cake in my lap on the drive there. We chatted about various things until the GPS told us we had arrived at the building, I looked up in shock, “She lives here?” I demanded.

We were in a rather nice area of London. Nothing posh but it was nicer than where I lived. But when Daisy said she lived in an apartment I had expected a tiny, one bedroom, built in the sixties kind of place. But this was a modern building with what looked to be quite spacious and nice apartments.

But if I was shocked by the outside of the building, that was nothing compared to what it was like inside the apartment. Its walls were freshly painted with brand new carpet throughout. The furniture was relatively new as well. The apartment was quite nice and, as predicted, pretty spacious for an apartment.

There was no way Daisy made enough money waitressing to afford this kind of place, but I couldn’t just ask her how she was able to afford this kind of life style, although I was deeply curious.

Going into the kitchen, it was there I beheld the practically perfect specimen that was Chris Hemswoth. He was tall. Far taller than I imagined and quite large, the movies did not do him justice. His hair was more of a light brown that the bleach blond of Thor but his eyes were a beautiful blue colour.

He was gorgeous. It seemed like the obvious thing. But he was handsome in a way that seemed unreal and unattainable. Something was just a little bit too perfect about him. The same with Daisy; her skin was just a little too flawless, her eyes too big and blue.

On the outside, the two of them were perfect for each other; they had both obviously won the genetic lottery and it made sense for the two of them to be together.

“What kind of cake did you make?” asked Daisy as she placed the container in the fridge.

“Red velvet.” I told her.

“Yum. Are we having that for dessert?” asked Chris.

“Yep.” Said Daisy.

“Nice.” He approved before he turned to Matt, “Want a beer?”

“Sure.” He replied.

It was strange that even though Chris was a mega movie-star he had that typical Australian charm of being able to put anyone at ease. It was something unique about Australians and I found myself smiling at ease.

Matt didn’t seem too phased by Chris’s star power and I asked him why as we headed into the lounge room.

“Actors, movie stars, rock stars, I can meet them with no worries - but with footballers I go weak at the knees. All of them.” He told me.

Chris and Daisy joined us shortly afterwards, Daisy gave me a glass of wine while Chris handed Matt a beer.

I had thought, given how sophisticated the environment was that the four of us would be discussing current events and politics, instead, we ended up playing Cards Against Humanity.

It was interesting to see the different types of humour that each person had. Daisy had more of a cute humour. For example, when the black card was ‘Studies show that lab rats navigate mazes 50% faster after being exposed to…’

Matt’s answer was ‘Kayne West’, Chris’s answer was ‘being on fire’ and mine was ‘The dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s’.

She chose my answer.

“That’s not even funny.” Said Chris.

“It’s funny to me, that’s the point.” Said Daisy.

She was right. The reason I was so good at Cards Against Humanity was because it wasn’t about picking the card I thought was funny but the card I thought the other person would find funny and I had a pretty good sense of Daisy’s humour.

Matt was a little different, his sense of humour was a little weird. The black card was ‘When Pharoh remain unmoved, Moses called down a plague of---‘

Daisy’s answer was ‘Passive Aggressive Post-It notes.’, Chris’s was ‘Bitches.’, mine was ‘Golden Showers.’. My answer won.

“What is a golden shower?” asked Daisy.

“You don’t want to know.” Said Chris.

My humour was quite dark. When the black card was ‘White People like---‘

Daisy answered ‘free samples.’, Matt answered ‘Praying the gay away.’, and Chris answered ‘police brutality.’. Chris’s answer won again. 

Chris’s humour was the typical Aussie humour of just being dirty. The black card was ‘When I am a billionaire I shall erect a fifty foot statue to commemorate---‘

My answer was ‘Pixelated bukkake.’, Daisy’s was ‘the little engine that could.’, Matt’s answer ‘Lactation.’ My answer won again.

“How are you so good at this?” asked Matt.

“I’m not telling you. I can’t give away the secrets to my success.” I smiled.

“I don’t even know what half these cards mean. What is pixelated bukkake?” asked Daisy.

“It’s where-” began Matt but Chris interrupted him.

“Don’t tell her.” He giggled.

Some were unique to the situation, like the black card being ‘If God didn’t want us to enjoy---, he wouldn’t have given us--.’. The answer being ‘Loki the trickster god’ and ‘that ass’. Chris actually took a picture of the cards and sent them to Tom Hiddleston.

Daisy made a fantastic quiche and a tasty salad. I scoffed when I saw the big slice of quiche she cut up for Chris. It was the size of his head.

“He won’t eat all that.” I marvelled.

“Oh trust me, he will.” She assured me.

I sat staring open mouthed while I watched Chris devour his mammoth sized portion of quiche and half the bowl of salad. I was going to struggle to fit my tiny slither of red velvet cake in, but Chris had two slices.

It was a great night with everyone just sitting around, drinking, talking and most of all laughing. Matt was constantly complaining how he didn’t understand the Aussie humour and it became a sort of game to come up with the strangest Aussie saying and have him try to figure out what we were saying.

“Going down to the servo in my trackie dacks to get a packet of durries.” Said Chris.

Matt blinked, “Going where to get what?”

“Going down to the petrol station in cargo pants to get a packet of cigarettes.” I translated.

“You call cargo pants trackie dacks? Are you serious?” he asked.

We simply nodded.

“I still think Australia humour is summed up by us naming a swimming pool after a prime minister who drowned.” Said Daisy.

We all cackled with laughter.

“The Harold Holt swimming pool. That’s gold.” Laughed Chris.

“You Australians are just weird.” Said Matt, shaking his head.

“Says you, lactation!” I giggled.

 Everyone ended up drinking a little too much and by the end of the night, none of us were in any condition to drive.

“It’s ok, I’ll just call an Uber.” Said Matt as he squinted at his phone, bring it closer and further to him several times.

“Can you even see the buttons?” I giggled.

“Not really.” He chuckled.

“Why don’t you guys just stay here? We’ve got an extra bedroom.” Said Chris.

“Yeah, it’s already made up.” Said Daisy.

I blinked in shock, it was a kind offer, but it meant that Matt and I would be sleeping in the same bed together. For the first time. Was I ready for that?

“I’ll make pancakes in the morning.” She smiled.

“It’s been forever since I’ve had pancakes.” Said Matt.

I knew that was his way of agreeing but he was being kind enough to give me an opportunity to say no if I wasn’t comfortable. But he needn’t have worried, I was perfectly comfortable with sleeping in the same bed as Matt.

Daisy lent me a set of pyjamas that I changed into in the bathroom. Coming back into the room I was greeted by Matt in bed, shirtless, waiting for me. I could see his clothes in the corner and was relieved to see his underwear was no apart of the pile.

There was a tense silence where neither of us was quite sure how the other was feeling. I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, facing Matt. He pressed his feet against mine and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re still wearing socks.” I smiled.

“My feet get cold.” He defended.

I laughed harder. It was just so adorable, he was wearing nothing but his underwear and his boxers.

“That was just the reaction I was looking for. First time I’m in bed with my girlfriend laughter. Great.” He pouted as he rolled over onto his side, away from me.

“Aw.” I cooed as I wrapped my arms around him from behind, “How about I spoon you to make up for it?” I smiled.

“Will spooning lead to forking?” he asked.

“If you try it will lead to knifing.” I told him.

“Alright. I’ll behave myself then.” He said as he intertwined his fingers with mine and held my hand to his chest. 

I knew I was strange in the fact that when it came to spooning, I liked to be the big spoon. Out of all them men I had dated, I’d never met one that liked being the little spoon, but Matt did. It made me feel that in some cosmic way we fit together just a little better than all of my previous relationships.

It may have something to do with the alcohol but I liked to think it had something to do with my holding onto Matt all night but I slept quite well.

…

I woke before Matt in the morning. Looking over at his still sleeping form I was struck by just how young he looked when he was sleeping.

True to his word, he hadn’t tried anything with me during the night and his respect for me just made me like him more.

Not wanting to disturb him I pulled my hand from his and slowly edged myself out of the covers before I silently opened the door, wincing at the loud sound the click made, before I slipped outside.

I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it felt like it was early. So I was surprised to see both Chris and Daisy awake, wearing work out gear buzzing around the kitchen.

“Morning.” Greeted Chris as he shook up a protein shake.

“Hey.” Smiled Daisy as her ponytail bobbed up as she stirred a batch of pancake mix in a bowl.

“How long have you two been us?” I asked, feeling slightly dazed, the bright light from outside hurt my head a little but nothing too unbearable.

“Not long.” Said Daisy pleasantly.

“We’ve just been out for a run.” Said Chris.

I looked at the two of them, amazed at how they could look so good at this time of the morning after the night of drinking we had all subjected ourselves to and having just run however far they had. Daisy in particular practically radiated beauty.

“You guys are crazy.” I told them as I sat down on a stool by the counter, rubbing my eyes groggily.

“Do you want some coffee?” asked Daisy kindly.

“Please.” I practically pleaded. My head felt a little disconnected from my body.

“Good morning.” Said Chris loudly, looking over my shoulder.

I turned to see Matt coming down the hallway wearing his jeans, rubbing his face wearily, he groaned to acknowledge Chris.

“Did I wake you?” I asked, suddenly feeling guilty. I thought I had been quiet.

“No. I was already awake when you got up. I just didn’t want to get out of bed.” He explained as he came and sat next to me. He looked how I felt.

“Coffee?” asked Daisy.

“The biggest cup you’ve got.” Said Matt as he blinked, finally taking in both Chris and Daisy he frowned, “Have you two been running?”

“Yeah. We just got back.” Said Chris as he finished shaking up his protein shake and began to guzzle it down.

Matt shook his head and turned to me, I was glad I was the only one who didn’t see how crazy the two of them were. They had to be feeling as least as bad as we were after all the drinking we had done last night yet neither of them showed it.

Daisy handed us two cups of coffee before she went back to mixing the pancake batter. I once again marvelled at how much Chris was able to eat. Daisy and myself had two pancakes each. Matt had four. But Chris had six.

“How can you eat so much?” I marvelled.

“It’s called ‘carb loading’.” He told me.

“It’s how he builds muscle.” Daisy explained.

“Yeah but I have to be careful. I don’t want to get too big.” He said.

“Me neither.” Said Matt as he brought up his flimsy arm and curled it to his body in a mock flex.

We all laughed.

After breakfast we said our goodbyes and made our way home, “Can I come in for a coffee?” asked Matt when we arrived home.

“Sure.” I smiled.

Using my key to open the door I walked into the lounge room to find James and Paul making out on the couch.

James, who was shirtless fell off the couch with a thump, quickly standing up and running a hand through his messy hair, attempting to straighten himself up. Paul sat up on the couch and blushed furiously when he locked eyes with the two of us.

“Morning you two.” I smiled a little too warmly.

“Jesus Mia, you could knock.” Said James grumpily.

“I live here.” I said pointedly as I walked inside and headed down towards my bedroom.

Matt followed me, tactfully giving James and Paul some space to fix themselves up.

Opening the door to my bedroom, I dumped my bag on my desk and went to hang my coat up, Matt stood in my doorway staring intently at something. I followed his gaze to see he was intently focused on my make-shift bookcase.

“What?” I asked him.

“Someone who has as many books as you should have a better bookcase.” He commented.

“Agreed. But on my list of priorities, buying a bookcase is quite low.” I said, “I’ve got to pay off my car and get it serviced. I’ve got to save for a trip home and then there is the massive student debt I have hanging over my head.” I sighed.

“Hmm.” He said thoughtfully, staring at my bookcase before he turned his gaze on me, a smile gracing his lips, “I enjoyed last night.”

“Me too.” I smiled.

He smiled wider, seeming oddly pleased with himself before he grabbed my hand and we walked back down the hallway together.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The first time I visited Matt’s apartment, I remembered it not for the strangest reasons.

It wasn’t because his house was strangely clean for a guy who lived alone and it wasn’t the fact that the meal he attempted to cook me was terrible, it was the discussion we had right before we went to bed.

The bedside table on what Matt dictated on my side of the bed was of a simple design with one draw and a shelf that had a small hole in the back of it which exposed a power point.

As I leaned down to plug in my phone charger I noticed a few books he had rested on the shelf, one in particular caught my interest.

“Are you religious?” I asked as Matt entered the room.

He raised his eyebrows at me curiously.

“There’s a bible in your night stand.” I explained.

“I wouldn’t say I’m religious but I believe in God and the afterlife. I hope its heaven but it could be hell. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

He seemed very nonchalant about the topic but I was quite interested.

“So you pick and choose what parts of the bible you want to believe?” I asked curiously.

“More or less.”

“That’s not very religious. You either believe all or you don’t.” I said pointedly.

“I believe religion is a very personal thing but its also a very flawed concept.” He explained.

“So you believe in gay marriage?” I asked.

“In the industry I’m in how could I not? Love is love.”

“But you also believe there is some magical being in the sky that is looking down on us all deciding who is good or bad?” I asked.

“I think it’s people who decide. Not god.” He replied.

“But you believe that God created everything on earth? Even though evolution has clearly decreed that we evolved from apes?” I questioned.

I was gearing myself up for a fight and Matt could see that, but instead of becoming defensive like I expected he seemed to become entertained, perhaps even amused.

As an intellectual, religion was a hot topic for me as I could not, no matter how hard I tried, make sense of the purpose or point of religion. For a long time, I had been a professional student and with that came with an in depth knowledge of politics and I found very rarely were wars fought over politics, but religion.

Therefore, I found religion to be a topic of contention for me and I was interested to see how this particular topic would play out between myself and Matt.

“The human eye.” Matt declared.

I blinked in shock, “What?”

“There is no scientific explanation for how the human eye developed. So most religions claim that its evidence of intelligent design.” He explained.

“Just because science can’t explain something doesn’t mean its proof of magic.” I told him.

“I’m not talking about magic; I’m talking about religion. Its faith.” He told me.

“And what purpose does faith serve in your life?” I asked, folded my arms across my chest.

“It gives me a sense of guidance and sometimes comfort.” He explained.

“Comfort?”

“Yeah. When things go wrong in life, it’s nice to be able to pray and think someone is listening.”

“And that they might fix it for you?” I asked.

“Yes.” He smiled, “But I don’t hold much stock in God fixing all my problems for me. Sometimes its just nice to think someone is watching and listening.”

“That sounds creepy.” I commented, “But how do you have that faith?”

“What do you mean?”

“There is no evidence of God or Buddha. There is more proof of aliens. So how can you believe in something when there is absolutely no proof that it exists? How can you use something like that to inform your morals and govern your life?” 

“Some people don’t need evidence. They just believe.” He told me, his smile wistful.

“Why?” I asked curiously. 

He was thoughtful for a moment, “Do you know how many senses worms have?”

“Touch. Taste and smell.” I answered automatically.

“They have no sense of sound or sight right? To them the concept of light or music is unimaginable because they don’t have a sense for it.” He stated.

I nodded, following the logic of his statement.

“So perhaps some people have developed and extra sense of faith. Some people have the sense some don’t because to them the sense of faith is as unimaginable as light and music are to worms.” He explained.

“So what are you saying? That I’m uninvolved because I’m an atheist?” I asked.

“You’re not an atheist. You believe in facts and science right?”

“Right.”

“So you believe in something.”

“It’s not a belief if its fact.”

“What makes it a fact?”

“Because I can see it can be proved.”

“So you can prove to me that I have blue eyes because you can see them, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“How would you prove that to a worm who can’t see?” he queried, “Is the worm just supposed to believe you when it has no proof that your right?”

I opened and closed my mouth several times; he had a point.

“Faith isn’t about facts. It what you believe. I’m not saying what people believe is right or wrong but you have to respect the fact that they believe it. Even if you disagree.” He told me.

I’d had this argument many times; I didn’t believe in any religions and whomever I was arguing with did and they would undoubtedly try to convince me that there was evidence that their religion existed. Indeed, that was how this conversation had started with Matt telling me about the human eye.

But then he had deviated in telling me what no one had ever told me before; faith was something that not all people had and that was ok. It didn’t mean that I was wrong or that Matt was right, it just meant that I didn’t have faith and he did.

The facts were simple, some people could do handstands and some couldn’t. It was a fact. I respected facts and I found Matt’s use of logic and facts in his argument for religion quite impressive.

There was no heated emotion in Matt’s arguments, just facts.

That was how a debate should be argued and I found myself gaining a whole new respect for Matt that in something so personal and often driven by emotion, like religion, that he had been so prolific in sticking to the facts.

I had the strange sense when I climbed into bed with him that night that I had somehow met my match.

Matt and I were so different, but we matched each other in different ways; Matt liked to create stories while I liked to experience them, we were different, but the same. He may be religious and I wasn’t, but we both respected facts.

I knew in that moment that Matt was my match. His personality not only complimented mine, but we blended well together in that we were equals.

It was a nice feeling to go to sleep with.

…

In addition to our regular dates on Monday and Matt coming into the café on Thursday, Saturday and Sunday I was spending Wednesday nights at Matt’s place and he was spending Friday nights at mine.

We were in that beautiful stage of the relationship where we just couldn’t get enough of one another. The ‘honeymoon period’, James called it. And he was right, Matt and mines relationship was bliss. It was not so serious that we were talking about a future together but it was not so new in that we were shy and uncertain with each other.

We were excited to see one another and excited to spend time together. We relished in the details of one another’s lives and just simply enjoyed each other with no complications. It was great and I could not recall a time I had been so care free and happy.

I was even booking a few modelling gigs. Mostly for aspiring photographers who were more into art than fashion, which I found was my niche. My main job was still working at the café but every second week, on Tuesday, I would set off in the early hours of the morning to some photography studio of location around London and do a photoshoot.

The money was all in cash and I hoarded it away and added it to my savings prolifically. I didn’t have any official representation in the modelling world so I was booking my gigs at the recommendations of people I had already worked with.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole ‘modelling thing’. It was fun and it was easy and it brought in a little extra money. But was I considering it as a serious career option? I still didn’t know. But I didn’t need to know any time soon. I was focusing on just enjoying life. I enjoyed Matt and I enjoyed modelling.

But one particular week was not so enjoyable.

…

Daisy was away, visiting Australia with Chris. Chess was busy with university and was unable to pick up extra shifts so there was no choice but to hire a new waitress and because I had been working at the café the longest, it was my job to train the new hired help.

Her name was Brittany and she was absolutely useless.

For starters, her writing was illegible and she could hardly read it herself let alone Bob whose eyesight wasn’t that great to begin with. She didn’t remember who ordered what, she couldn’t carry more than two plates at a time and even when she did that she often dropped them.

I made the executive decision to put her on the coffee machine to keep her from smashing anymore plates but that was an even bigger mistake. She never cleaned the machine as she went, despite my telling her to, she would overfill the coffee cups or under fill them, she couldn’t even remember the difference between a cappuccino, latte and a mocha.

The only thing that she was safe to do was clean up. Even then, she didn’t do a very good job.

By the end of the week I was absolutely exhausted and I couldn’t help but complain to Matt about it all on Monday.

“She can’t do anything!” I complained as we laid on my bed talking, “I seriously think the only reason Bob hired her is because she Australian and she’s pretty.”

I was laying with my feet resting on the head of the bed, Matt with his feet dangling off the end of the bed, our heads meeting in the middle as we laid in opposite directions.

“I thought that was the only criteria for working there?” asked Matt.

“You have to at least know how to write English, which she doesn’t. Her handwriting looks like chicken scratches; she can’t even read her own writing!” I burst out angrily.

He laughed.

“Thank you, I’m glad you find my pain amusing.” I said sarcastically.

“You said she was a student, what is she studying?” he asked.

“Would you believe that disaster is trying to become a doctor?”

“Really? Well that explains the handwriting.”

“It does?”

“Doctors are notorious for having bad handwriting.” He explained.

“Yeah but would you seriously trust someone who can’t remembered what you ordered ten minutes ago to prescribe drugs to you?” I asked pointedly.

“Depends. It would be great if you were a junkie.” He grinned, “It would be like having that forgetful fish from Nemo as a doctor.” He said, chuckling at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes, “You are no help.”

“I’m sorry.” He said, shifting so he could look at me. He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips.

Matt and I had a similar understanding when it came to affection. We held hands and hugged in public, showing playful affection to one another, stealing the occasional kiss. But it private, even when things got steamy, we were still classy about things. There was no shoving his hand up my shirt or me grinding against him like many couples, we would kiss each other’s necks and tangle our hands in each other’s hair as we kissed passionately. It may have all sounded rather tame but it made knots of desire clench in my stomach.

I kissed him back happily, enjoying the strange sensation of kissing him upside-down, his top lip pressing against my bottom lip.

Pulling back, he smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a little better about the moment.

“There’s only one thing for you to do.” He told me.

“What?”

“Quit waitressing and become a model full time.” He said simply.

“Ha.” I said in mock amusement, “Yeah that’d be nice.”

“Why not? You enjoy it. Why don’t you do it full time?” he asked.

“I don’t even have an agent.” I argued.

“So? I know people. I’m sure I could get you one.” He shrugged.

“Yeah but if I was going to do it professionally it would take all the fun out of it. Right now, I don’t have to watch my weight or agonize over what I wear. If I do it professionally it becomes my life and I’m not sure I can handle that.” I explained.

He didn’t reply, seeming thoughtful.

“Besides, I had to turn down a gig this week.” I shrugged.

“Why?”

“I can’t be away from work. I’m working full time for the next three weeks.” I explained.

“So you only get Monday off?”

I nodded.

“That sucks.” He commented.

“Tell me about it.” I sighed, “This right now is the only thing I have to look forward to.”

“Hence why we are just lying in bed instead of going out and doing something?” he asked.

“Exactly. I’m not sure I could handle going anywhere. My feet are so sore from running around all week, they may just fall off.” I told him.

“Hmm.” He said thoughtfully.

Sitting up he shifted so he was sitting at the head of the bed, I tucked my chin to my chest so that I could watch him. Taking my foot down from the head board, he placed it in his lap and began to press his thumb into the arch of my foot.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Giving my girlfriend a foot massage to make her feel better. Is that ok with you?” he asked simply.

I smiled; it certainly was.

…

The next day when I got home, I was exhausted when I got home. I was dead on my feet as I walked through the door.

“Hey, there you are.” Greeted James.

I groaned in response.

“You want some coffee?” he asked.

“No I’m just going to go and have a nap before dinner.” I told him as I headed towards the hallway.

“Hey be careful! Matt was in your room all day making a ruckus.” He called.

I stopped and turned around, sure that I had misheard him, “What did you say?”

“Matt came over today with a big box, said he had something to do in your bedroom.” Said James as he poured hot water from the kettle into his mug that was sitting on the bench, “He was banging and crashing, I was gonna look but Paul said I shouldn’t go in there without asking.”

Frowning in confusion I walked down the hallway, feeling far more awake than I had in hours I opened the door and switched on the light, looking around my room with interest.

At first I didn’t notice anything out of place, the two defining features of my bedroom were my bed and my desk and they seemed perfectly normal so at first I didn’t see it, but then my eyes travelled to the other side of the bed, where my make shift bookshelf normally sat to find it was no longer there.

Instead of cardboard boxes filled with books there was now a sleek and stylish bookshelf that matched the white colour of my bed and the wood top of my desk.

The sides of the bookcase was made of white iron like my bed and the actual shelves of the case was made of the same sand coloured wood as my desk. It looked like it belonged in my room, with the books placed on the shelf, neatly arranged like I liked them.

It was a beautiful bookshelf and exactly the kind I would have brought for myself had I had the time to purchase one, pick it up and put it together.

As I expected the bookcase in shock, I noticed a piece of paper, folded over and resting on the shelf in a spare space on the shelf. 

Diving across my bed, I snatched the piece of paper off the bookcase and read it quickly, my heart beating loudly in my chest.

‘Mia, I know you’ve had a tough week. This is just something to make you smile. –Matt.’

My heart seemed to swell in my chest, growing so big that it lodged in my throat. Matt had gotten me a book case. More than that he had put together a bookcase for me and placed my beloved books on it shelves because he knew it would make me happy.

And it did. He knew me so well that something as simple as seeing my books in a proper bookcase would cause me so much happiness that it would make up for the horrible week I had just had and was expected to have.

He had been so observant in seeing that I was a little beaten down and needed cheering up that he had gone out and done something so thoughtful and nice that I didn’t know what to say. It was so unexpected.

I was so used to taking care of myself I had forgotten how nice it could be to be taken care of.

Wave after wave of affection rushed through me in that moment that I knew few things; I liked Matt. I really liked Matt. I liked everything about him. And I trusted him.

With all that acknowledged I realized that I was ready to take my relationship with him to the next level.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Lovelies,   
> I'm not a Doctor Who fan but I know far too many people who are. So I wrote this for them. And because Matt Smith is such a loveable dork.  
> To find out more about the story and see all the little extras that go with it, check out my tumblr: http://teaenthusiast65.tumblr.com/


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